a reader-response approach to the initial training of maltese

A READER-RESPONSE APPROACH
TO THE INITIAL TRAINING OF MALTESE LITERATURE TEACHERS
by
TERENCE PORTELLI
A thesis submitted to
The University of Birmingham
for the degree of
DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
School of Education
The University of Birmingham
December 2010
University of Birmingham Research Archive
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ABSTRACT
This thesis documents the development of nineteen student-teachers in becoming
teachers of Maltese literature, initiated in a methodology study-unit over one academic
year. Drawing on reader-response theories, and coupled with insights from reflective
practice and assessment for learning, this study traces trajectories taken by studentteachers as they gradually move from a text- or subject-bound culture towards a more
student- or response-centred approach. Methodologically, this thesis is an actionresearch project embracing a bricolage stance. The main analysis draws on the lecturerresearcher’s and the student-teachers’ experiences in a dialogical way. A number of
reflective tasks were employed to make explicit the meandering thought processes that
were taking place and shape during the duration of the study-unit. Different topics
essential to any prospective teacher of literature were also critically examined. These
issues were realised during a six-week block teaching practice, with some of the
experiences collected in an ad hoc portfolio. Towards the end, six perspectives are
analysed to illustrate broad themes and significant vignettes of what this transition
entails. While mainly respecting traditional academic format, parts of the thesis are
written in non-canonical genres, thus expressing an essentially exploratory,
experimental approach.
DEDICATION
To the loving memory of my mother, Josephine
ACKNOWLEDGEMNTS
While a thesis has one author, in all truth it is a product of many unacknowledged years
of education, to which many significant people, several of whom are teachers, have
contributed in their valuable and unique way.
Although one of the most recent persons I have met, I am especially grateful to my
supervisor, Dr Nick Peim, for his insights and foresight, constant support, and his
willingness to share in a comprehensive and comprehensible way his academic acumen.
I will remember for long and with joy our feedback meetings, mostly when I used to
travel to Birmingham, but also on those two unforgettable occasions when he came to
Malta.
This thesis would not have taken shape if the nineteen student-teachers enrolled to
become teachers of Maltese language and literature in secondary school between 2003–
2004 and 2004–2005 had not granted me their permission to participate in my research
and to judiciously use all the necessary data that was generated during the many, all too
many, study-unit’s activities and tasks. By the end of writing my thesis, in a way I feel
it has become their research too, since their voice was given ample space and treated
with respect.
I would like to thank two of my colleagues within the Faculty of Education, University
of Malta, Deborah Chetcuti and Michael Buhagiar, a Science Education and a
Mathematics Education pedagogues, respectively, with whom I discussed and expanded
my ideas. Their assiduous listening and helpful critical suggestions have shaped my
thoughts and tempered my writing skills.
Finally, I would like to thank my family, especially my father, Annetto, and my brother,
Mario, who in their own particular way, have always encouraged me to pursue my
studies, remain as calm as a Ph.D. student humanely can be, and for persistently
believing in my talents. Their moral support, with the cherished and loving memory of
my mother, Josephine, have been a constant reminder that I could aim further, aspire
higher, and achieve more. The same sensation was aptly described by Richard Bach
(1970/1994: 27): “We can lift ourselves out of ignorance, we can find ourselves as
creatures of excellence and intelligence and skill. We can be free! We can learn to fly!”
NOTE
As much as possible, I use standard British English orthography throughout my thesis,
with the exception of those quotations and book names that follow the American
orthography as their system. I decline writing sic after each latter case to have a smooth
text; I use (sic) when evidently there is a mistake in the original text only.
I use square brackets [.…] to: indicate a lengthy omission from text; insert a personal
comment or clarification not present in the original text; or when I give the literal
translation in English of words, generally book titles or selections from original texts,
written in a foreign language.
Unless otherwise stated, typographical emphasis (bold, italics and underlining) in the
original texts are reported as found in the original text. Then, when I want to emphasise
a word or part within a quote, it is clearly indicated by ‘emphasis added’ just after the
page number within the parenthesis.
I prefer to use in-text parenthetical reference system. When I use two dates divided by
a forward slash (example 1908/2004) the first date refers to the first year of publication
when this has a significant historical meaning and the second year indicates the edition I
am using and quoting from.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PART I - MY POSITIONING AND LITERATURE REVIEW
1
Overview
2
CHAPTER 1 - The itinerary of my journey
3
1.1
My educational journey
3
1.2
The writing of a personal history
3
1.3
My context
5
1.3.1
6
1.4
A very brief history
1.3.2 Religion in Malta
7
1.3.3
7
Maltese: A linguistic background
The Maltese Educational System and a first person narrative
1.4.1
Teacher training in Malta
9
12
1.5
Maltese and I: A reflection
14
1.6
Mapping my context
15
1.7
Inquiring my own practice: Two sets of research questions
15
1.8
An overview of the thesis
18
CHAPTER 2 - The PhD thesis as a multi-genre writing
20
2.1
The PhD as a genre
20
2.1.1
20
2.2
2.3
2.1.2 The essay mutating into a thesis
21
Reborn from the ashes: The new or alternative thesis
22
2.2.1
Alternative forms of data
23
2.2.2 Poetry and the novel in research
24
2.2.3 The layered text
25
The virtues of alternative forms of data representation
25
2.3.1
2.4
2.5
The essay
Two further justifications for alternative forms of data
representation: Writing pedagogy and Multi-genre approach
26
Some limitation of the new thesis or alternative forms of data
representation
26
My exploration or adventure
27
CHAPTER 3 - Reader-response criticism: An interview for the perplexed
29
3.1
Preamble to an interview and a table
29
3.1.1
3.1.2 Literature review as a sympathetic critique
30
30
Reader-response theories: An interview for the perplexed
31
3.2.1
A personal beginning
31
3.2.2
What’s in a name?
32
3.2.3
Orienting oneself round reader-response
34
3.2
Solid foundations… Malta’s oldest poem
3.2.4 New Criticism
35
3.2.5 Precursors and basic tenets of reader-response
39
3.2.6
41
A short history of reader-response and reception theory
3.2.7 The reader, reading and meaning
43
3.2.8
Key contributions of reader-response theorists
47
3.2.9
Louise Rosenblatt
48
3.2.10 The possibility of an integrative model
49
3.2.11 Reader-response and pedagogy
52
3.2.12 Studies on becoming teachers of literature
58
3.2.13 Some criticisms to these studies
69
3.2.14 Some limitation of reader-response
70
72
3.2.15 A paradigm shift in literary theory
CHAPTER 4 - A personal reflection on reflection
74
4.1
Professionalism and reflective practice
74
4.2
Reflection in educational contexts: Setting the stage
75
4.3
Delineating the contours of reflective practice: Dewey and Schön
76
4.3.1
80
Some ‘other’ definitions of reflection
4.4
Why and how to reflect?
83
4.5
Levels of reflection
86
4.5.1
The object of my reflection
88
4.5.2
Critical reflection
89
On the road of reflection
90
4.6.1
Reflection in a Maltese context: A home-grown metaphor
91
4.6.2
Research backing the road to reflection
93
4.6
4.7
Some problems with reflective practice
94
4.8
Two images of reflection
97
Chapter 5 - Assessment: The issues and three emblems
100
5.1
Introduction
100
5.2
The examination culture
100
5.2.1
Some criticisms to the examination culture
101
5.2.2
Who is leading the attack on the examination culture?
103
5.3
Assessment for Learning
104
5.4
Feedback
106
5.4.1
Characteristics of effective feedback
108
5.4.2
The tricky business of feedback
109
5.5
Portfolios
110
5.5.1
Defining portfolios in educational contexts
111
5.5.2
Artefacts
115
5.5.3 Portfolios: Process or product?
117
5.5.4
117
Assessment of portfolios
5.6
Rubrics
119
5.7
Imagination and assessment
122
INTERMEZZO I - My passion for writing: A counterpoint
124
PART II – METHODOLOGY AND METHODS IN THE FIELD
128
Overview
129
CHAPTER 6 - Some philosophical underpinnings to my methodology
130
6.1
Preamble: My quest
130
6.2
The journey metaphor
131
6.3
Method/s, methodology, epistemology and ontology
133
6.3.1
Methods and methodology
133
6.3.2
Epistemology
134
6.3.3
6.4
Ontology
134
My assumptions or framing my research
135
6.4.1
Multiple constructed realities
136
6.4.2
The primacy of reflexivity
136
6.4.3
The relationship between the researcher and the researched
137
6.4.4
As a researcher I acknowledge and embrace my subjectivity
138
6.4.5
Situated knowledge(s)
138
6.4.6
The sense of endings
139
6.4.7 Language, discourse and identity
140
6.5
My role as practitioner researcher: Birth of the bricoleur
140
6.6
Conclusion
143
Chapter 7 - My project
144
7.1
Qualitative Research and Action Research
144
7.1.1
144
7.2
7.3
Action Research
My research design: An overview
145
7.2.1
The sample or cohort
145
7.2.2
The study-unit
150
7.2.3
The field
152
7.2.4 My personal understanding of data generating experiences, alias
methods
Data generating experiences in practice
154
7.3.1
My research diary and student-teachers’ reflective diaries
157
7.3.2
Reflective Tasks
158
7.3.3
Documents
160
7.3.4
Individual interviews and focus group conferences
157
7.3.5
The process of data reduction
161
7.3.6
Dead ends, false starts and cul-de-sacs
164
7.3.6.1 Topics, discussions and issues
164
7.3.6.2 Reading list and lack of academic reading
165
7.3.6.3 Reflective Tasks , deadlines and feedback
165
7.3.6.4 Recording interviews and conferences
166
7.3.6.5 Teaching practice and my role crises
167
156
7.4
7.5
7.3.6.6 To translate from Maltese or to write directly in English?
168
7.3.6.7 No happy endings… just learning
158
7.3.7 The role of data and the nature of evidence
169
Ethics and my research
169
7.4.1
Characteristics of an ethically informed responsible agent
170
7.4.2
Codes of Ethics
170
7.4.3
Consent letter: The participants’ first safe-guard
171
7.4.4
Confidentiality and anonymity
172
7.4.5
Moving toward a new way of doing ethics
174
7.4.6
An example of the disciplined self-reflexive approach in practice
174
Two conclusions
176
INTERMEZZO II - Thirteen ways of looking at ‘becoming’
177
PART III - BECOMING TEACHERS OF LITERATURE: A LECTURER
AND STUDENT-TEACHERS’ PERSPECTIVE
189
Overview
189
CHAPTER 8 - Becoming teachers of literature: A lecturer’s experience
191
8.1
191
Is there a lecturer in this class?
8.1.1
Vignettes, or the importance of lived experience and its
reconstruction
191
8.2
Vignette I: Pedagogy as a search of perfect method?
192
8.3
The identity of a lecturer in relation to that of a teacher
193
8.4
Vignette II: Films on teachers
193
8.5
Planning for a study-unit
194
8.5.1
Planning and knowledge
195
8.5.2
The teaching and learning environment and climate
195
8.5.3 Lecture room environment
196
8.5.4 Lecture room climate
196
8.5.5 Difficulties in achieving a positive climate
198
8.6
Vignette III: First lecture
198
8.7
Study-unit description
200
8.7.1
Objectives of the study-unit
200
8.7.2
Reading for… The supplementary reading list or Reading Pack
201
8.8
Vignette IV: Reading has a history too
202
8.9
Knowledge: Between tradition and innovation
203
8.10
Vignette V: Text(book) selection
206
8.11
The seeds of innovation are to be found in the tradition
207
8.12
Vignette VI: Going to a bookstore… abroad
208
8.13
Tools for reflection and assessment
209
8.13.1 Resource design: Reflective tasks
210
8.13.2 Resource design: The portfolio guidebook
211
8.14
Vignette VII: Different models of a literature lesson
212
8.15
A question of reappropriating my language
213
8.16
Vignette VIII: The teaching and lecturing continuum or tension
214
8.17
Resources as tools
214
8.18
Vignette IX: Why teach literature?
217
8.19
Vignette X: Durable belief in change
218
CHAPTER 9 - Four perspectives: Reading history, beliefs in teaching
literature, subject’s identity, and images of a teacher of literature
219
9.1
Introduction
219
9.2
Premise for histories of reading: The roots of an identity
219
9.2.1
Language teachers’ beliefs
220
9.2.2
A short note on methodology of autobiography or personal
literary history
222
9.2.2.1 Images and artefacts of early experiences
224
9.2.3
Early contact with the reading world
225
9.2.4
Gendered reading habits
226
9.2.5
Reading in English and Maltese
227
9.2.6
Role models at an early age
229
9.2.7
Memories from Primary and Secondary school
230
9.2.8
Access to book fairs
231
9.3
9.4
Early beliefs in teaching literature
232
9.3.1
Perceived difficulties to break away from the traditional method
237
9.3.1.1 Training at university
238
9.3.1.2 Teachers themselves
238
9.3.1.3 Pupils’ expectations
238
9.3.1.4 Agents of change
240
Identity of a subject
231
9.4.1
246
Student-teachers defining literature
9.4.2 Defending literature, or knowing better why teaching literature is
important
9.4.3
9.5
Reading interests as a mirror of canon formation among
prospective teachers
249
251
Images of teachers of literature
256
9.5.1
257
Student-teachers describing a teacher of literature
9.5.2 The teacher of literature I want to become
259
9.5.3
Why become teachers of literature
260
9.5.3.1 Love for children
260
9.5.3.2 A special teacher
261
9.5.3.3 Playing: Simulated teaching
262
9.5.3.4 A deliberate decision
262
9.5.3.5 Success in examinations
263
9.5.3.6 Emotional Intelligence
263
9.6
The literature teacher… metaphorically speaking
264
9.7
Only connect…
267
CHAPTER 10 - Two perspectives: Teaching practice and assessment
268
10.1
Teaching practice and assessment of study-unit
268
10.2
Teaching practice
268
10.2.1 Notice boards, mobiles, SMSs and emails
270
10.2.2 The four student-teachers’ teaching context
271
10.2.3 The influence of their co-operating teacher
273
10.2.4 A work in progress in a reader-response approach to teaching
literature
275
10.2.5 Difficulties in implementing response-based literature lessons
during teaching practice
281
10.2.6 Experience, response and interpretation
283
10.2.7 Models of best practice in teaching according to a reader-response
approach
285
10.2.7.1
Best lesson
285
10.2.7.2
My best resource
286
10.2.7.3
Reading a text, differently
287
10.2.7.4
Interpreting a text
288
10.2.8 Final comments and evaluations
288
10.2.8.1
10.3
Dénouement
Assessment as a ‘subversive’ method of lecturing
291
10.3.1 My experience with the first cohort
293
10.3.2 Leap of faith: Embracing and implementing an assessment for
learning framework
294
10.3.3 Exemplars, artefacts and the individualised component of the
portfolio
296
10.3.4 Conferences
298
10.3.5 Portfolio and rubrics
299
10.3.6 Assessing the study-unit: A basic questionnaire
300
10.3.6.1
The time factor
300
10.3.6.2
Some recommendations
301
10.3.7 Small steps in the ‘right’ direction
10.4
291
302
10.3.7.1
Modelling at university
302
10.3.7.2
The theory-practice link or divide
303
10.3.7.3
Students in secondary school
303
10.3.7.4
Personal improvement
304
10.3.7.5
Becoming a reflective practitioner
304
End note
306
CHAPTER 11 - Closure, traits, recommendations and coda
307
11.1
The idea of closure
307
11.2
Some traits of my research
308
11.2.1 Philosophical traits
308
11.2.2 Traits from the research project
310
11.3
11.4
Some recommendations
The end as a partial beginning
313
11.5
Coda
316
315
APPENDIX A: A Compendium of Reflective Tasks
317
APPENDIX B: The Two Rubrics Used in the Assessment of the Portfolio and
Study-Unit
336
References
341
LIST OF TABLES
Table 1.1: My personal research questions
17
Table 1.2: Set of questions related to student-teachers
17
Table 3.1: The literary compass points
37
Table 3.2: The intersection of textual features with reader’s stance
51
Table 3.3: Key studies in becoming teachers of literature
60
Table 4.1: A synthesis of methods and techniques used in reflective practice
85
Table 4.2: Bain, Ballantyne, Mills and Lester’s 5Rs framework
87
Table 4.3: On the road to reflection…
92
Table 5.1: Some purposes of examinations
100
Table 5.2: Characteristics of effective feedback
108
Table 5.3: Features and aims of a portfolio system of assessment
114
Table 5.4: A selection of artefacts related to teaching literature at secondary
school
115
Table 5.5: Typical contents of a portfolio based on teaching Maltese literature in
a secondary school
116
Table 5.6: The relationship between process and product dimensions of a
portfolio
117
Table 5.7: The kind of balanced portfolio assessment I envision
119
Table 6.1: My characteristics of bricolage and bricoleur
142
Table 7.1: Gender distribution according to the different cycles
146
Table 7.2: Participant profiles
146
Table 7.3: An overview of the data generating experiences for the two groups
151
Table 7.4: Data generating experiences
156
Table 7.5: A list of reflective tasks devised and used in different cycles
158
Table 8.1: Different distinctive characteristics of a lecturer when compared to a
teacher
193
Table 8.2: Changes I implemented to create a more democratic lecture room
197
Table 8.3: The objectives for the study-unit
201
Table 8.4: Topics covered in the study-unit
204
Table 8.5: The different topics covered during the study-unit categorised under
topics
205
Table 8.6: Some advantages of using reflective tasks
211
Table 8.7: Contents of the portfolio guidebook
211
Table 8.8: Some examples of basic terminology in English and Maltese
213
Table 8.9: Engeström’s model of activity theory
216
Table 9.1: Three paradigms of teaching literature
232
Table 9.2: Reasons for teaching literature obtained by student-teachers at the
start of the study-unit
233
Table 9.3: Two different views of a literature classroom
234
Table 9.4: Characteristics of a traditional literature lesson
235
Table 9.5: Agents of change within the traditional system of teaching literature
241
Table 9.6: A short comment on a selection of documents related to the teaching
of Maltese literature
243
Table 9.7: Literature is…
246
Table 9.8: The effects of literature...
249
Table 9.9: Counter arguments to the charge on literature
250
Table 9.10: The distribution of syllabi according to academic year and relation to
the focus of the attainment targets
254
Table 9.11: The topics with the suggested book and reasons for that choice
254
Table 9.12: Characteristics of a teacher of literature that student-teachers want to
emulate and embrace as their own
259
Table 9.13: A distribution of professions and trades vis-à-vis teaching
265
Table 9.14: The literature teacher is like…
266
Table 10.1: A selection of activities conducive to a reader-response approach to
teaching literature
280
Table 10.2: A selection of resources used in the implantation of a readerresponse approach to literature
280
Table 10.3: Reasons related to pupils’ lack of experience with a reader-response
approach to teaching literature
282
Table 10.4: Reasons related to student-teachers’ lack of experience with a
response based classroom
282
Table 10.5: The role of experience, interpretation and response in the
reading/interpretation act
284
Table 10.6: The test questions for the first cohort
293
Table 10.7: A schematisation of the different sources for assessment of the
study-unit
295
Table 10.8: The different components with the respective percentage from the
final grade
295
Table 10.9: The most important to the least important items in assessing this
study-unit
296
Table 10.10: Some examples of the individualised section of their portfolio
297
Table 10.11: Different artefacts developed around two themes
297
Table 10.12: Student-teachers’ comments before and after the conferences
298
Table 10.13: Comparing ‘The literary experience in the secondary school’ to
other study-units
300
Table 10.14: Comments on time factor
301
Table 10.15: Specific recommendations by student-teachers for the improvement
of this study-unit
312
Table 10.16: The perceived improvement in reflective writing skills
305
“He who is a teacher from the very heart
takes all things seriously only with reference to his students –
even himself.”
Freidrich Nietzsche
Beyond Good and Evil
“He who is a teacher is usually incapable of any longer doing anything for his
own benefit, he always thinks of the benefit of his pupils, and he takes
pleasure in knowledge of any kind only insofar as he can teach it.
He regards himself in the end as a thoroughfare of knowledge
and as a means and instrument in general, so that he has
ceased to be serious with regard to himself”
Freidrich Nietzsche
Human, All Too Human
PART I
MY POSITIONING AND LITERATURE REVIEW
1
OVERVIEW
In Part I of my thesis I want to critically explore my provenance as a novice lecturer
and researcher from the island of Malta (Chapter 1). Then, I provide an explanation
and possibly a justification for my writing style, mainly traditional format blended
with non-canonical genres in selected parts (Chapter 2). Furthermore, I will present
the three main fields of knowledge – reader-response theory (Chapter 3), reflective
practice (Chapter 4) and issues related to evaluation and assessment (Chapter 5) –
that I specifically draw on throughout my research.
2
CHAPTER 1
The itinerary of my journey
1.1
My educational journey
When I was young, I dreamt of becoming a doctor. Saving lives, I felt, was my vocation. At
thirteen I began studying science subjects: Biology, Chemistry and Physics. All my classmates
dreamt that one day we would become esteemed members of the medical profession, working at
the same hospital.
Then, during my last year of secondary school, I became more aware of the near impossibility of
obtaining the required results to be eligible for a degree in medicine. Instigated by poor
performance in Chemistry and inspired by good results in languages, I started to be convinced that
there were other fascinating professions, equally stimulating and rewarding.
At sixth form I chose Italian, Maltese, and Philosophy. By the end of the two-year course I obtained
very good results in all three areas. I attribute this success to the fact that I developed a very good
relationship with all my teachers. Furthermore, I felt empowered to be able to quote great
thinkers and I would go through elaborately rewording my compositions just to squeeze in a
sentence or two that struck my attention.
At that time, beyond any doubt, I wanted to become a teacher of Maltese. By enrolling in a fouryear B.Ed.(Hons.) I had the opportunity reading Maltese to become a secondary school teacher.
Once I finished the course I was employed as a secondary school teacher in a local secondary
school.
1.2
The writing of a personal history
Complex events have taken place, some orchestrated, others not determined, and
others still happened without even being noticed, “discretely, / very quietly…” like
the growth of ‘Mushrooms’ in Sylvia Plath’s (1981: 121-122) poem. The research
experience is a lace composed of different treads. But the way to describe that
experience, the way to understand and make sense of the process, is as complex and
at times problematic as the text itself.
3
In this thesis a predilection for the personal, subjective and intuitive will manifest
throughout the whole research reconstruction and interpretation. Although there
may be different equally relevant “points of entry texts” (Berry, 2004: 108), in most
parts I prefer to draw on principles and practices developed from a life history
approach. Life history research, as Ardra Cole and Gery Knowles (2001: 10) have
explained:
…acknowledges not only that personal, social, temporal, and
contextual influences facilitate understanding of lives and phenomena
being explored, but also that, from conceptualization through to
representation and eventual communication of new understandings to
others, any research project is an expression of elements of a
researcher’s life history.
Objectivity, a much desired value within certain positivistic approaches to research,
is not directly aimed at. What is recounted is mainly in the first person, be it my
position or my student-teachers vantage point of view. This is the ‘front’ – “the
expressive equipment of a standard kind intentionally or unwittingly employed by
the individual during his performance” (Goffman, 1959: 22) – I want to present.
The tension between being inside/outside at the same time, naturally led itself to
difficulties if not couched within this theoretical framework that values such a
stance. Since every research is a fabrication of sorts, and each text that represents
that research experience is itself another fabrication, I consider them as an asset in
the authentication of the portrayed experience. In scientific writing the author
brushes his/her text to a state where it gives the impression of being neutral, value
free, objective and therefore scientific, what Roland Barthes (1968) called “degreezero” writing. However, I do not apologise for adhering to a different view. I
concur with Maggie MacLure (2003: 81-82) that: “Texts cannot be reduced to
singular meanings” and that “[t]he hardest thing to see in any text is that which
poses itself as natural and unquestionable.” I do not plan to hide, camouflage, and
polish my writing to a state of scientific resemblance. I am in agreement with David
Berliner (2002: 20) that “no unpoetic description of the human condition can ever be
complete.” I acknowledge my subjectivity and my student-teachers’ personal strong
voices, and indeed I recognise that in doing so I capitalise on a new way of writing
research.
4
I consider variety of research methods (Chapters 6 and 7) and writing (Chapter 2) as
strong in qualitative educational research, especially when one is aiming at hinting,
grasping, describing, and interpreting ‘local knowledge’ (Geertz, 1983) and
‘personal knowledge’ (Polanyi, 1958). Local knowledge develops over time by one
generation to the next, is embedded within a community of practice, and is based on
experience within an ever evolving culture. Personal knowledge is that kind of
‘tacit knowledge’ (another of Polanyi’s key terms) gained from a direct experience
of an event; a kind of knowledge that is guided by one’s personal commitment and
sense of an increasing contact with reality; the acknowledgement that to know
something means to be personally involved in the act of understanding; this
phenomenological awareness questions the distinction between the knower from the
known, and challenges the bipolar subject/object (vide Moustakas, 1994; Titchen
and Hobson, 2005; van Manen 1997; Grene, 1966).
Critical to this decision is the frankness about my positionality towards the whole
research area. As Lorna Allies (1999: 2-3) contends: “In essence then we ought to
know and acknowledge our personal, practical, ideological, cultural and theoretical
positionality and, if we can, discover and discuss the impact it has on our research.”
Positionality may be important in better understanding and explicating: the selection
of research area, the choice of methodology, the way one reads fundamental texts in
that area, and the impact all this has on the research process from conception to
writing.
Furthermore, “[t]he notion of place, and one’s positioning within it,
remains highly topical in light of colonial deeds and post-colonial discourses”
(Lovell, 1998: 2)… nothing nearer the mark when one considers Malta’s past.
Understanding positionality is a never ending process of self-discovery. So better
start off this journey or reconstruction with where I stand and how to a certain extent
that determines who I am.
1.3
My context
The Maltese Archipelago (better known as Malta) is a set of small islands at the
heart of the Mediterranean Sea. Malta the main island, with Gozo known as the
5
sister island, Comino, and the uninhabited islets of Cominotto and Filfla, together
constitute the Maltese Archipelago. Situated roughly 96 km from the Southern tip
of Sicily and 290 km from Northern Africa, and midway between Gibraltar and Port
Said, its strategic location has been detrimental for its history. The population is
around 400,000 people (National Statistics Office, 2005: v). Enjoying a temperate
climate nearly all year round, during the three months of winter, Malta attracts
mainly mature people from colder climates around Europe; during the rest of the hot
dry year, sandy beaches and exciting night life are main attractions for the young or
young at heart. Apart from the tourist industry, the country’s economy is heavily
dependent on the construction industry and to a lesser extent on agriculture and
fisheries, teaching English as a foreign language, and a host of other small
enterprises.
1.3.1
A very brief history
For hundreds of years Malta’s sheltered harbours were an attraction for different
colonisers around the Mediterranean that sought military and economic power in the
region (vide Bradford, 2000). From prehistoric times, Malta’s history and Maltese
identity have been the product of the different colonisers that landed on its shores.
The first human stone buildings are to be found on the Southern part of the island, at
Ħaġar Qim and Imnajdra; these are Malta’s best known prehistoric remains that date
back around 5000 years (vide Trump, 2002). The Phoenicians, Carthaginians and
Romans had settlements and even temples around the island, mainly near the sea
and around the natural ports. In 870 AD the Arabs occupied the island up to
1070AD, when the Normans from Sicily got hold of the island. Subsequently the
Swabians, Angevins, Aragonese and Castalians governed the Island.
Emperor
Charles V in 1530 handed the islands to the Sovereign Military Order of St John of
Jerusalem (better known as the Knights of Malta), who very much aware of possible
incursions and military attacks from the Ottomans, fortified the Island, thus creating
the appellative of an island fortress. The French came to Malta in 1798, with
Napoleon himself entering the Grand Harbour and residing for some days in some
of the magnificent palazzos around the Island. The French’s dominion lasted only
6
two years, when the Maltese invited the British to govern the Island. British rule
lasted up to 21st September 1964 when Malta gained its Independence, and the last
battleship left the Island on 31st March 1979 when finally Malta gained its freedom.
Definitely, the two distinctive characteristics that forged the Maltese identity are
religion and the Maltese language.
1.3.2 Religion in Malta
Most Maltese are Christians and loyal to the Roman Catholic Church. Religion
permeates all spheres and all stages of Maltese life.
Commenting on post-
Independence’s role of religion, Carmel Cassar (2000: 43) succinctly describes the
state of affairs: “The established Church had served as a point of reference to the
Maltese furnishing them with a raison d’être. It further helped them to create a
homogeneity and a list of unwritten rules by which the community could abide.”
Just a small glimpse at the Maltese landscape will suffice to identify the church as
the crux of the traditional Maltese village.
In fact, many villages evolved as
settlements around a chapel that later, with great efforts of the believers, was
transformed into a dignified church. As Jeremy Boissevain (1992: 167) has noted:
“A Maltese village was [and to a certain extent still is] thus inward-looking,
focusing on the parish church and the intense social, political, economic, and
ceremonial life that took place in and around the central square.” Most artistic
endeavours of the Maltese, be they of Maltese hands or commissioned to foreigners
of great artistic reputation, can be found in churches around Malta and Gozo. As
will be demonstrated later, religion directly or indirectly impinges on what happens
in the literature classroom; or at least can serve as an interpretive key for
understanding the classroom dynamics, the identity of the text, and the role of the
reader in the reading act
1.3.3 Maltese: A linguistic background
Although a very small island, Malta has its very own native language, spoken by
more than 400,000 people (National Statistics Office, 2005: v). Maltese language’s
7
history spreads over one thousand years (Brincat, 2000).
Indeed, the Maltese
language has been hailed as one of the most important (Maltese Language Act,
2004, p.3 point 31a-b), if not, together with religion, “the crux of Maltese
identity…the main differentiating mark of ethnic identity” (Cassar, 2001: 257).
Hand in hand, if not leading this ever greater awareness of the Maltese language,
one can notice a parallel movement of a renewed consciousness among writers
about their national identity as expressed through their writing (vide Cassola, 2000).
Literature has contributed extensively in the creation of a national identity and in
consolidating respect towards the Maltese language (for an overview of the
development of Maltese Literature vide Friggieri, 1994).
Manwel Mifsud (1995: 26-27) describes the Maltese language as in strata that
mirror succeeding phases of languages/cultures in contact: the Semitic stratum, the
Romance super stratum (Sicilian and later on, Italian), and the English ad stratum.
The major colonisers that brought along their language were: the Arabs (870AD –
1249AD), the Sicilians (1090 – 1530 AD) and Italians (1530AD – 1800AD), and
finally the British (that can be further subdivided into two phases, an early one from
their arrival 1800 AD up to the second World War, and the second phase related to
the English dominant influence as an international language).
Maltese is the only national language in Europe that whilst indisputably belonging
to the Semitic family of languages, from 1934 has a standardised orthography based
exclusively on the Latin alphabet. The newly established standard orthography
officially recognised by the Government consolidated its position after it was chosen
as the official system in elementary schools (vide Brincat, 2001; Marshall, [1972],
63-70). During British rule, English’s influence on Maltese was limited mainly to
the administrative and the military spheres. At that time, English was “generally
regarded as the language of domination and of despotism” (Frendo, 1994: 14).
English’s stronghold did not happen either overnight or without a fight for
“linguistic supremacy” (Borg and Azzopardi-Alexander, 1997: ix) between those
that hailed or abhorred Italian or English and vice versa. This virulent controversy
resulted in what is known as “the Language Question” (vide Hull, 1993). The subtle
8
change in the importance attributed to different languages forms part of the Imperial
government’s stratagem “that strove to strengthen its rule by drawing on the local
patriotism of the ordinary people – hence the elevation of Maltese, the language of
the masses, rather than Italian the language of the middle classes” (Cassar, 2000:
214). Upon Independence, Maltese language’s status and role was enshrined in the
Constitution of Malta (1964). English is creating a lot of havoc in modern Maltese
linguistic landscape mainly due to the incongruence between the two orthographical
and grammatical systems.
1.4
The Maltese Educational System and a first person narrative
Even if education in Malta dates back prior
I have two vivid memories of my first few
days at kindergarten.
the arrival of the Knights of Malta (vide
Sultana, 2001; Zammit Mangion, 1992),
Early one morning my mother woke me up
the Maltese educational system mirrors by
as usual and took me for a walk round the
and large the general framework in place
in England, and to a certain extent may be
considered as a historical remnant of the
block. Instead of going back home, when
we arrived at a big tall gate she took out a
small lunch-box from her basket and
handed it to me. It was heavy even if
British Colonial past (Sultana, 1997b: 1315).
inside I could find only a tiny sandwich,
orange juice, a banana and a Deserta (piece
of locally made chocolate). I can still hear
my mother nearly whispering in a calming
voice into my ear: “Ter, now run to the
Administratively governed by the
main door and ask for Sister…” (I don’t
Education Division, education up to
remember her name). I ran as fast as I
sixteen years, is regulated by both the
could and didn’t even look back to say
goodbye.
Education Act (2007) and the National
Minimum Curriculum (Ministry of
The second early memory is going back
Education, 1999). In Malta, one can find
home with a brand new copybook that was
distributed for free at school. It was a new
both State and Private Schools (Church
kind of copybook, with narrow blue, red
Schools, Private Schools and Parent
and grey lines inside. But more interesting
Foundation Schools). Generally speaking,
pre-primary (also known as kindergarten)
was that on the bluish-grey cover there
were two profiles. I did not know who they
were; I never saw them before. I had never
9
met them when with my mother we went to
starts at the age of 3 up to 5 years.
Attendance at the pre-primary level is on a
the playground or when we visited our
relatives, or when we went to mass. Back
voluntary basis, and is free of charge in the
home, I asked my father who they were.
State schools. At this level, supposedly no
He took a long look and in a strong nearly
irritated voice replied: “These are the king
formal education takes place. Instead,
activities aimed at developing social skills,
language and communication competency
and queen.”
Maltese schools tend to celebrate all kinds
of occasions. One of them is Mother’s day.
in preparation for primary school, are
I still remember writing my first ever poem
preferred. At this level and in the
dedicated to my mother, handing it very
subsequent one, in State schools one finds
secretly to my father to take a look at it to
find that rhyming word I could not think of –
a co-educational system.
because poems at that time and for a very
long time, had to rhyme otherwise they
Compulsory education begins at the age of
5 up to 16 years. It is divided into two
were not poems! – going to school the next
day and presenting my effort to the old
teacher who used to live near the
cycles: a six year primary course for
playground. The only thing I know was that
children between the age of 5 and 10
the next day I was asked by the head of
years; and a five year secondary education
school to go on the podium to read my
poem who had just won the best poem in
for students between the age of 11 to 16
school for Mother’s Day. I do not have a
years. At state secondary schools, a single
copy of that first poem, but today I know
sex education is in place. Church, Private
that behind my work were the hands of a
very caring and loving father who loved his
or Parent Foundation schools have
wife very dearly.
different settings and arrangements
regarding the type of students’ gender,
Year six was a mess. Running from school
to two teachers for private lessons, working
amongst other aspects.
past papers from day one, watching my
“There is also increasing evidence that in
mother pray each evening that all goes well
and my father losing his temper when I did
Malta, it is the examination tail that wags
not know something that by then should
the education dog” (Sultana, 1997a: 109).
have been obvious. I do not recall anything
To date, the very first important milestone
of every student attending primary school
is the 11+ exam. This selection at a very
young age has been criticised (vide Grima,
10
else, except for a cataclysm that fell on our
house when I (or was it we?) received the
results. Good results in nearly all subjects
and one big F in one core subject that
would haunt me to this day: English. My
father was devastated. He reprimanded me
et al. 2008). However, to date nothing has
changed much – parents are first to defend
the examination selection system and even
since if I could not make it when there were
more vacancies than usual (a new Junior
Lyceum at Ħamrun had just opened), how
on earth could I ever think I could make it
the following year?! I was sent to a local
teachers in favour of this selective and
Area Secondary, and to add more sorrow to
discriminatory process.
my family placed in Room 2 which was
another way of saying I was a B student.
After over ten years of compulsory
Mr Portelli was my English teacher and my
education, towards the end of the
secondary school, students may sit for yet
another high stake examination, or better
first ever Form Teacher. He selected me to
become the Class Prefect the most
important responsibility any student in class
would aspire too. I was assigned a badge
still a battery of examinations, the 16+
with the word PREFECT that I would very
Secondary Education Certificate (SEC)
proudly wear each day. I entered into a
organised by the local Matriculation and
Secondary Education Certificate
fight or two, but I always had the backing of
my Form Teacher. Although some students
Examinations Board (MATSEC) (a local
version but internationally recognised
used to say he was my relative, I did not
know him and to this day I know nothing
about him except that he taught me how
examination body entrusted to set
not to be afraid of English, and that reading
is a pleasurable experience. And by the
examinations similar to the G.C.S.E. in
way, by the end of that first year I managed
England). The results obtained at this
to pass in all subjects (including English) for
stage are a prerequisite for entry to the
the Junior Lyceum schools and one very
next level, post-secondary education or a
basic requirement to a range of unskilled
prestigious Private School. After one year I
saw my father smiling again.
and semi-skilled jobs. Once more, the
I was the first from my family to enter
examination regime at this level was
university. I still remember my father
criticised in a major evaluative report (vide
Grima, Camilleri, Chircop and Ventura,
telling me with a slight embarrassment: “My
son, from now onwards I cannot help you
any more.” I felt that I was venturing into
new grounds, becoming someone else
2005), but has little if no effect on the
different from my parents. The first
system.
important test came a few months into the
course: my very first teaching practice.
Post-16 education in Malta consists mainly
Placed in a near to home primary school, I
of two routes. Students not geared
was assigned a year three class. I was so
towards academic subjects, can now opt
enthusiastic about the whole experience.
11
for a vocational education programme at
the Malta College for the Arts and Science
My very first lesson was on the Holy Spirit. I
prepared a cardboard in a number eight
form that when closed formed a circle with
Technology (MCAST). A two year
a happy and sad face on each side. Then,
academic programme at a preparatory
in the middle I drew a pigeon, the symbol
of the Holy Ghost in the Roman Catholic
institution (known as Sixth Forms, with
the state’s Junior College being the most
popular) leading to, upon successful
church’s tradition. I used this resource as
an induction, with the simple question: “Do
we want to be happy or sad?” As predicted
completion of the programme – yet again
measured by a series of examinations at A-
all answer in unison: “Happyyyyyy!”
“And how can we be happy? What can
make us happy all the time?”
Level and Intermediate Level – access to
Knowing that this was the 8.35am lesson, a
an academic or professional programme at
religious answer was needed; and together
the University of Malta. At University one
can then choose from different degrees at
they replied: “Godddd”. I had to ask
another question, for which I got no
answer. For them God was God. As a hint I
asked them to make the sign of the cross.
undergraduate level and then progress
one’s studies at either post-graduate level
or up to a doctorate level.
They obeyed. Finally one of them shouted:
“The Holy Spirit”. And in a magic like
fashion, I opened the happy face and they
all saw this dove. A success.
The education system is the backbone of
Maltese society since it’s the investment in
the sole resource that is readily available
Subsequently during my third and fourth
year I stared teaching Maltese at secondary
level. I really felt that was my true
vocation and mission: teaching Maltese.
on the island: the Maltese citizens.
Indeed when I finished university, even if I
Various governments have highlighted
knew I had a greater chance of finding a job
in the primary sector, I applied exclusively
education as top priority of their
for a secondary sector job, which not
legislature.
without some trepidation I obtained some
weeks later. That is how I became a
teacher!
1.4.1
Teacher training in Malta
The four-year course was nothing when
In Malta, “no person may exercise the
compared to the difficulties I encountered
teaching profession against remuneration
when teaching Form 3 in an area secondary
school in the south of Malta. I reckon that
or hold himself to be professionally
experience was my baptism of fire. Day in
qualified to do so unless such person is the
day out I tried to control my classes with
what I learned about youth psychology and
12
holder of a warrant issued under this Act”
classroom management manuals, and in
respect of philosophical precepts and
(Education Act, 2007: 24(1)).
sociological insights. Nothing seemed to
work. What kept me going at that time
were: my never-ending passion and love for
Apart from academic training, being a
my subject specialisation; my constant
Maltese citizen and of good conduct are
creativity and search for innovative
two necessary prerequisites to qualify for a
teaching methods; and those few hours a
permanent teaching warrant in Malta. At
week at University reading for an M.A. in
the time of my research, teacher education
in Malta consists of three routes. The
reader-response theory. Like many others,
I truly embarked on the road to become a
teacher at school; I consider my teacher
Faculty of Education at the University of
training as just the waiting time at the
station.
Malta is entrusted with the organisation
and provision of two teacher training
Although employment at university is very
professional courses: a four-year full-time
rare, I was fortunate enough to be one of
B.Ed. (Hons.) degree and one-year full-
four to be chosen to lecture part-time on
teaching Maltese at primary school. This
time Post-Graduate Certificate in
opportunity was an appetiser of what had to
Education (P.G.C.E.) course. The B.Ed.
(Hons.) course provides training both for
primary teachers and secondary (single- or
double-subject specialisation) teachers.
come later.
Two years later, I applied for and was
assigned a full-time post in Maltese
pedagogy, the first ever post at my
institution. My last day at school as a
The one year P.G.C.E. is offered as a
teacher was the Christmas party; I started
single subject specialisation to student-
working at University on 5th January, 1998.
teachers who want to teach at secondary
Within a few days I was expected to deliver
level. The third route – often contested,
a whole study-unit (14 hours) without any
guidance or mentorship. It was yet again a
but never to date revoked – into the
sink or swim situation. In the beginning I
teaching profession is offered to those that
found it difficult to fit in especially since I
possess a Masters Degree or Doctorate in
was the youngest member in the Faculty of
Education, and nearly all the members at
any subject or area of research, that can
that time were my own lecturers. With
apply for a permanent warrant (Education
Act, 2007), who however must undergo a
Pedagogy Course.
13
time I became just another recognisable
lecturer of the Faculty.
1.5
Maltese and I: A reflection
It is through my language, Maltese, that I experience my existence. It is through Maltese that: I
store, interpret and relive my past; intensely experience and savour my present; dream, and
hopefully forge my future. My identity is moulded with Maltese language. In the highly evocative
word, laden with mystery, so dear to Cesare Pavese (1952: 12-13), Maltese in my life is “allpervading.” I perceive the world through Maltese as it unfolds in front of me and within me. I
cherish its possibilities and enjoy stretching its limits to the edge of creativity and without losing
sight of comprehensibility. Moving the boundaries of my language is like a game that I like to play,
aware and knowledgeable of the limits provided from over a thousand years of use and
developments, and at the same time keen to reach for and maybe reinvent the horizons of
possibilities that it provides me with.
I cannot fathom my being from my language; I am my
language and my language is what I am. As Ludwig Wittgenstein (1921/2001: 68) has stated: “The
limit of my language mean the limits of my world.” All my lecturing is conducted in Maltese; I take
great pains in searching a Maltese equivalent for the basic pedagogical terminology.
I feel a
responsibility towards the advancement of my language, a duty most noticeable in the three year
collaboration with a colleague of mine, in writing the first ever language methodology textbook
exclusively in Maltese: Stedina għat-Tagħlim fis-Sekondarja [An Invitation to Teach in Secondary
School] (Portelli and Camilleri Grima, 2003). At the same time I cannot but feel pity to read what
Peter Mayo’s (2005, Language, Cultural capital, and Citizenship, para. 2) has rightly described as
the local linguistic scenario at my University:
The University of Malta is an important state-funded institution that encourages use of
English through its educational language policies. Lectures are, for the most part,
delivered in English, and the same language is used in the writing of assignments, test
papers and dissertations. Maltese, the language spoken in working-class homes, on the
other hand, is assigned a subordinate status in this institution as elsewhere in the country,
and those who speak only this language are thus constrained in making full use of their
citizenship rights.
Linguistically speaking, things would be better defined as diglossia that is, two languages, in this
case Maltese and English: “co-occur throughout a speech community, each performing an individual
range of functions, and each having acquired some degree of status as a standard” (Crystal, 1999:
89). Thus, Maltese and English at least at University have distinct roles and serve different
functions. Finally, these roles – Maltese on the spoken level and English on the written level – carry
different prestige, demarcated as “high” and “low” (Crystal, 1999: 89). Over the years the written
word has gained more and more prominence, since it is through writing that human consciousness
achieves its fuller potentials (Ong, 1982: 14-15). In Malta, social mobility is directly linked to
linguistic competence in English. In other words, Maltese speaking individuals cannot aspire to
socially improve their lives without a good command of English.
14
1.6
Mapping my context
In this chapter I tried to explore, describe and critically examine the generalities and
specifics of the Maltese context that, similar to other contexts, “is emergent,
variable, and highly elastic” (Holstein and Gubrium, 2004: 309). I tried to identify
those aspects I consider relevant to the foreign reader and more selectively, what I
believe is pertinent to my research. Time and again it has been asserted that:
“Words, utterances, actions, perceptions, and cognitions all depend on context for
their intelligibility, substance, and understandings” (Holstein and Gubrium, 2004:
297). I specifically selected four main routes to cover my context, “working it up,
down and across” (Holstein and Gubrium, 2004): geography and history, religion,
education and language. No one aspect can be described singularly without any
reference to the rest, hence the strong relationship and dependence of one on the
other. My complex and interconnected evolving context has been considered as
“interpretative resource” (Holstein and Gubrium 2004: 299) which acts as a
backdrop as much as a foreground to my research project.
1.7
Inquiring my own practice: Two sets of research questions
In my thesis I set out to explore the following main research question: How can the
initial training of Maltese literature teachers benefit from a reader-response
approach?
Recently, the study of the reading act has found renewed and
reinvigorating interest in the reader mainly emerging from reader-response theories.
Prompted by this assumption, I would like to consider the possibility of translating
and contextualising this empowering experience to Maltese literature secondary
school initial teacher training. Various insights from reader-response guide the
researcher through different stages, mainly planning, enacting and reflecting on the
literature teacher training process during one particular study-unit. Moreover, the
thesis documents the transition from reader to teacher of nineteen Maltese studentteachers trying to appropriate a reader-response approach to teaching literature in
different local secondary schools.
15
When I had to choose my research area, I followed some of Daniel Schwarz (2008:
151-152) recommendations, mainly: identifying a subject that I feel “passionately
committed” to, and keeping as a personal source of inspiration “the relationship of
your topic to your teaching.” The latter, time and time again, proved to be a never
ending source of inspiration. I concur with Jean McNiff’s (2002: 18) insight: “Life
is a process of asking questions to reveal new potentialities.” Indeed, my research
questions emerged as a result of the dialectical process of ‘literature informing
practice’ and ‘practice being understood and interpreted in the light of literature’.
Hence, I did not experience a hiatus between theory and practice; actually I felt that
they were all the time mutually influencing and clarifying each other. Readerresponse theories (Chapter 3), as well as literature on reflection (Chapter 4) and
assessment for learning (Chapter 5), offered the necessary theoretical framework to
couch my research. On the other hand, my life at University of Malta as a novice
lecturer within the Faculty of Education responsible amongst other duties for
pedagogy and the teaching-practice component for Maltese specialisation studentteachers, was the always refreshing spring from which I drew my inspiration. To
these, one might add my love to write and experiment with different genres (vide
Chapter 2).
Actually, it was through the vital and cyclical process of reflection that I managed to
elaborate, edit, refine and clarify my research questions. In a sense, I lived through
the process of ‘framing’ and ‘reframing’ my research problem (Schön, 1983, 1987),
with time raising more questions than answers. This reflective process gained more
momentum between the first and second cycle, when I began to place my initial
questions within the broader context of reader-response theories, reflection and
assessment for learning.
Thus, a “nexus of issues” (Andrews, 2003: 15) was
established, as exemplified in my main research question. Later, the main research
question developed in two different strands, namely: (i) my identity as a novice
lecturer and researcher (Table 1.1); and (ii) the induction into a reader-response
approach to teaching Maltese literature of two groups of student-teachers (Table
1.2).
16
Table 1.1: My personal research questions
Questions related to myself as a lecturer, researcher and writer
 How can I improve my practice as a lecturer and pedagogue of Maltese
literature at secondary schools?
Chapter/s
Chapter 8
Chapter 11
 What skills did I need to develop as a researcher in order to be able to
inquire my own practice?
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
C. What role can reader-response theories have in elaborating a philosophy
about reading, the reader and literary meaning, but which at the same time
act as interpretative lens through which I conceptualise and understand both
the local situation and scenario of teaching literature at secondary school, as
well as the transactional relationship between lecturer and student-teachers?
Chapter 3
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
D. To what extent and in what ways can insights from reflective practice effect,
change and improve my practice?
Chapter 4
Chapter 10
E. How can I impact my student-teachers’ learning experiences by shifting
attention from learning assessed in a summative way, to assessment for
learning? What does it entail to put into place a system of assessment for
learning at a higher education institution which has no such tradition?
Chapter 5
Chapter 10
Chapter 1
Chapter 3
Intermezzo I + II
Chapter 8
* Main question shaded in grey; the rest are the supporting or subsidiary questions
F. How could I present knowledge in a thesis in such a way as being
experimental, engaging, creative to write and stimulating to read? Can
expository writing marry creative exposition?
Table 1.2: Set of questions related to student-teachers
Questions related to student-teachers as learners becoming professionals
A. How does one become an effective teacher of Maltese literature at secondary
school?
Chapter/s
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
B. To what extent does a reader-response ideology (theories, view-points, insights,
etc) create an awareness of how to read the past and create possible future
trajectories for teaching Maltese literature at secondary school?
Chapter 3
Chapter 10
C. What role does critically reflecting on the personal reading history or biography
have on student-teachers’ current beliefs and aspirations, as they embark on the
journey to become teachers of Maltese literature?
Chapter 9
D. How do student-teachers conceptualise the identity of their own subject?
Chapter 9
E. What images of literature teachers do student-teachers bring to their classrooms?
How do these experiences influence and impact their own practice?
Chapter 9
F. How and to what effect do student-teachers appropriate and try to contextualise a
reader-response approach to teaching Maltese literature during their six week field
experience? How do student-teachers experience and live through the congruence
or disjuncture between literature pedagogy at university and classroom practice?
What factors in their school and classroom context do they encounter which
facilitate or impede the smooth and lasting appropriation of a reader-response
stance to the teaching of Maltese literature at secondary school? How do studentteachers gauge and describe their own success or disappointments as teachers of
Maltese literature?
Chapter 10
G. How do student-teachers receive the challenge of participating in a new assessment Chapter 10
system that requires them to become responsible autonomous learners as well as
actively engage in new forms of assessment such as peer-assessment and designing
a portfolio to document their professional journey?
* Main question shaded in grey; the rest are the supporting or subsidiary questions
17
This dual approach is more intertwined than it prima facie seems, for they mutually
influenced each other throughout the academic year.
Furthermore, within this
perspective, reader-response is viewed more than just an enabling literary theory. In
my view, reader-response theories have an important role to play in teaching
Maltese literature. While I was personally convinced of the relevance of readerresponse theories, I wanted to explore whether such theories could illustrate a
protocol for initial teacher training and whether reader-response theories could be
considered as a new paradigm for teaching Maltese literature.
While it may be highly debatable to claim that the current state of teaching literature
at secondary school in Malta is in a state of crisis, it would be more realistic and
prudent to define the present state of affairs as warranting a sustained and researchbased process of change.
I feel reader-response theories, with their renewed
emphasis on the reader, are an ideal partner in the promotion of children or readercentred pedagogy in the local scene. From the scrutiny of individuals’ reading
habits to the categorical importance of the transactional act, from rigorous principles
of text selection to more humanistic and experienced-based approaches to aesthetic
reading, from the redefinition of the teachers’ role to more advanced considerations
such as standards-based teaching, accountability, assessment and progression in the
Maltese literature classroom, all these and similar critical issues find meaning in
insights by reader-response theorists or in innumerable documented experiences of
pedagogues and teachers inspired by these sensibilities. Furthermore, I contend that
teacher training, to be truly effective, needs to reflect and embody the same guiding
principles and pedagogy adopted in literature secondary school classrooms. Thus,
initial teacher training inspired by reader-response theories acts as a mirror or serves
as a living model of what is to be transplanted in secondary schools by prospective
teachers of literature.
1.8
An overview of the thesis
In the following chapter I will make the case for a different kind of writing than just
expository writing (Chapter 2). Then, I proceed with the discussion of reader18
response theories (Chapter 3) in the form of an interview, the role of reflection in
educational courses (Chapter 4), and the innovative idea, at least in my institution,
of assessment for learning (Chapter 5). These chapters will be followed by Part II
that explains and elucidates my own particular way of thinking about methodology
and methods in the field. Finally, in Part III I narrate my own experiences as a
pedagogue (Chapter 8), and then present the analysis and discussion of the data
around six broad themes that relate to conception of reader-response: reading
history; the role of beliefs in teaching literature; subject’s identity; images of a
teacher of literature; teaching practice and assessment for learning (Chapters 9 and
10).
These concluding three chapters and themes specifically and intricately
document the trajectories taken by nineteen student-teachers in their journey in
becoming teachers of Maltese literature by appropriating a reader-response stance to
teaching of Maltese literature at secondary school, which is in sharp contrast to the
text-bound culture prevalent in most secondary schools.
19
CHAPTER 2
The PhD thesis as a multi-genre writing
2.1
The PhD as a genre
Writing pedagogy has recently tended to focus on either the ‘process of writing’ or
the ‘product of writing,’ known also as genre (Maybin, 1994: 186-194). In turn,
process writing, “a highly intricate dynamic and constantly fluctuating interplay of
activities” (White and Arndt, 1991, 3), has drawn attention to the mechanics of
writing, subdividing the writing act in stages or interrelated phases – generating
ideas, drafting, focusing, structuring, re-viewing, evaluating – and focusing the
awareness of the writer on different complementary components such as of the
importance of the audience and voice. On the other hand, pedagogues such as John
Moss (1998: 135) emphasise “the importance of giving pupils experience of writing
in a range of genres.” Janet Maybin (1994: 186) concurs in “making the genres
explicit and showing how to write them” since this will “enable pupils to understand
more fully how knowledge is constructed in different academic disciplines.” Like
when faced with all ‘false dichotomous thinking’ (LaBoskey, 1998), similar to
Louise Rosenblatt’s insight on and stance towards literary theory (vide Booth, 1995:
viii-ix; Chapter 3), my approach will take a balanced view; an approach that is more
than a synthesis of divergent view/s, rather than a question of either/or.
2.1.1
The essay
In Malta, the essay features in many exam contexts at secondary school and
especially in national examination settings such as the 16+ exam, and the local
MATSEC ones. While the essay’s infiltration can never be understated, few ever
think about the gross limitations and wash-back effect of the essay upon the whole
system of teaching and learning where literature is concerned. I unequivocally share
Robert Protherough’s (1986: 50) preoccupation, that the strongest limitation of the
20
essay, is that it “seems to posit a fixed and retrospective view of a text, not a
tentative, developing one.”
2.1.2 The essay mutating into a thesis
Towards the end of formal education, the essay form takes precedence over all other
forms. Indeed, the essay can be considered as the icon of schooled literacy, not only
of the long revered history and standing, but also for the way it mutates in postformal education to suit a range of supposedly ever increasing requirements, at Sixth
Form and at University, without ever losing its shine. Some of the formal features
of this kind of academic writing are: the strong relationship with the question as well
as an exploration of personal opinion about the topic; a piece of writing with logical
structure and a preference for argumentation; flexibility of content; and finally,
proper use of grammar and stylistic devices to persuade the reader about the writer’s
competence. The ‘essay,’ develops in length and with time becomes an assignment,
then a long essay, after that a dissertation, a paper, and later on a thesis and maybe
also a book. (About the relationship between a dissertation and a book in its
conception, reception and utility vide Olson and Drew, 1998) This follows elegantly
the idea that “a new genre is always the transformation of an earlier one” (Todorov,
1990: 15), in this case a linguistic augmentation of sorts.
The essay and its
mutations, like other genres, “sediment into forms so expected that readers are
surprised or even uncooperative if a standard perception of the situation is not met
by an utterance of the expected form” (Bazerman, 1994: 82). No wonder that one
can find books specifically dedicated to the writing of the essay in general (vide
McClain and Roth, 1998) and in language studies in particular (vide Myers, 2002).
Anis Bawarshi (2000: 335) summed up the new interest in the analysis and
understanding of genre as bringing about “a dramatic reconceptualisation of genre
and its role in the production and interpretation of texts and culture.” However, the
thesis as rather untouched or hardly scrutinised. Indeed, it is very “ironic” that the
thesis as a genre is “under-theorised, under-studied, and under-taught text” (Paré,
Starke-Meyerring and McAlpine, 2008: 1) as well as being “strange” and
21
“problematic” (Duke and Beck, 1999: 32). To put it differently: “research writing is
disrespected and omnipresent, trite and vital, central to modern academic discourse,
yet a part of our duties as teachers of writing that we seldom discuss” (Davis and
Shadle, 2000: 417). The thesis not only can be conceived as both the “ultimate
student paper” and “the first contribution to a discipline”, but also as “a multi-genre,
responding to multiple exigencies, functioning in multiple rhetorical situations,
addressing multiple readers” (Paré, Starke-Meyerring and McAlpine, 2008: 1-2).
However, the latter two functions especially “in its traditional format does not
adequately serve either purpose” (Duke and Beck, 1999: 31). The doctoral thesis, as
a genre communicates within the society where it is operative through its
“institutionalization” (Todorov, 1990: 19), for indeed, “it is because genres exist in
an institution that they function as ‘horizons of expectations’ for readers and as
‘models of writing’ for writers” (Todorov, 1990: 18).
Among the coded characteristics of a dissertation one finds: a well-argued subject; a
strong awareness of audience usually the tutor/professor, rather than peers; a
rarefied use of language with over use of passive voice, pervasive use of technical
terminology and lengthy footnotes; a particular sequence ranging from a literature
review, methodological concerns, to presentation of the data, some form of analysis
and conclusion. These have become a blue-print for theses around the world. All
these characteristics pertain to a particular, maybe archaic, view of the thesis as an
institutionalised genre that is very much promulgated in a symbiotic genre: books on
how to produce such a thesis (vide Evans and Gruba, 2003; Tietelbaum, 2003;
Oliver, 2008).
2.2
Reborn from the ashes: The new or alternative thesis
Robert Davis and Mark Shadle (2000: 418) view a move away from modernist
ideals such as “expertise, detachment, and certainty, and towards a new valuation of
uncertainty, passionate exploration, and mystery.” Part of the new rhetoric requires
that prospective writers master and “compose within a large range of strategies,
genres and media,” to work so to say against the grain, by deconstructing and
22
reworking long standing binary opposites, such as “academic and expressive
writing; competing canons; fiction and nonfiction; high, pop, and folk culture; and
the methods and jargons of different fields” (Davis and Shadle, 2000: 418). Within
this paradigm: “Research becomes seeking as a mode of being” (Davis and Shadle,
2000: 422). This paradigm tallies very much with the sense of personal quest as a
method of self-discovery and self-improvement, as well as being an existential
condition as a human and as a researcher (vide Part 2).
Within a post-modern condition, boundaries between disciplines are continuously
being blurred, merged and reinvented.
Postmodernist awareness has evolved
towards an ethnographic writing genre that “has been blurred, enlarged, and altered
with researchers writing in different formats for a variety of audiences” (Richardson
and Adams St. Pierre, 2005: 962). The thesis as a genre cannot remain immune
from such an extensive and pervasive climate.
“Alternative research writing
inscribes an inclusive cross-disciplinary academy, which mixes the personal and the
public and values the imagination as much as the intellect” (Davis and Shadle, 2000:
422). Ardra Cole and Gary Knowles (2001: 10) claim that: “Arts-informed research
brings together the systematic and rigorous qualities of scientific inquiry with the
artistic and imaginative qualities of the arts.” The critical collection of papers in
refereed journals targeting different audiences is one of the new thesis formats that
have already been accepted in different institutions (vide Duke and Beck, 1999: 34).
2.2.1 Alternative forms of data
Alternative forms of data representation, refers to “forms whose limits differ from
those imposed by propositional discourse and number” (Eisner, 1997: 5). Elliott
Eisner (1997) lists: stories, pictures, diagrams, demonstrations, still photography,
parody, collage, pastiche, theatre, caricatures, journals, narratives, and multimedia
resources. To these one might add: letters, soliloquy, collage, pastiche, allegory,
parody, satire, autobiography, farce, aphorism, caricature, drama, fable, stream of
consciousness… more often than not, genres or writing techniques derived from
23
modern literature or philosophy. On a more experimental note, one might add: film
and video, dance, music and multimedia installations (Cole and Knowles, 2001: 10).
To name just three strong modern examples: Ludwig Wittgenstein’s (2001)
Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus is written in ever descending points according to a
method adored by linguists much like fragments from a papyrus or classical
literature; Friedrich Nietzsche’s (1978) Thus Spoke Zarathustra: A Book for None
and All is actually a series of reflections held together by a thin line of a parable or
novel-like account; and Jacque Derrida’s (1986) Glas, that looks more like a
scrapbook or notebook, written in two columns with different fonts, than the
conventional book Westerners are so accustomed to.
2.2.2
Poetry and the novel in research
Poetry too can be an effective mode of expression. I share James Clifford’s (1986:
25-26) defence of poetry as a mode of presenting data: “to recognise the poetic
dimensions of ethnography does not require that one give up facts and accurate
accounting for the supposed free play of poetry… it can be historical, precise,
objective.” Poetry resides in everyday language and its creative potentials are at the
disposal of everyone.
Denotative language is challenged by the personal and
connotative use of a word. Linguistic play is at the heart of everyday language use.
The novel is already an acceptable format in some faculties or departments (Duke
and Beck, 1999: 33). The novel can be an example of the evolving relationship and
‘contamination’ between social scientific writing and literary writing (Richardson
and Adams St. Pierre, 2005: 959).
“Genre translation” can be another technique when presenting and analysing data;
for example using snippets from an interview to create a poem synthesising the
highlights of the topic. Indeed this technique is one of the “generative procedures
for developing language activities” that is suggested in reader-response activities,
what Alan Duff and Alan Maley (1990: 161) dubbed as “media transfer.”
24
2.2.3
The layered text
The “layered text” is “a postmodern reporting technique” (Ronai, 1995: 396) that
“reflects the structure of consciousness” (Ronai, 2002: 107); presenting different
accounts of the ‘same’ story. In printing, the end result is the product of four or
even at times more passages of different colours.
Reading a layered text, readers are expected to “fill in the spaces and construct an
interpretation of the writer’s narrative” and in doing so, “the readers reconstruct the
subject, thus projecting more of themselves into it” (Ronai, 1995: 396). This opens
a creative space for the researcher as writer, as well as for the reader who is invited
to bring new insights to knowledge production and dissemination. As perception
evolves, so does the apprehension of a picture emerge. The possibly ever greater
clarity or refinement is very much in line with Roman Ingarden’s idea of
“concretization” that can be defined as “the activity by which the text is put together
in reading which leads to the reader’s cognition of it as a meaningful experience”
(Valdés, 1993: 527). Ingarden’s concept was later developed by Wolfgang Iser
(1980: 118-134) to include the idea of “consistency-building”, that is the unity that
develops as the interaction between the text (or better still, selections or discrete
groupings from the texts) and the reader, as s/he makes sense as progressing with
the text, in order to grasp or construct an understanding or a meaning of that text.
2.3
The virtues of alternative forms of data representation
Alternative forms of data representation have a number of advantages.
Hypothetically, alternative forms of data facilitate the comprehension process in a
creative way. Alternative forms of data representation can supply the author and
reader with a healthy dose of “productive ambiguity” that is “the material presented
is more evocative than denotative, and in its evocation, it generates insight and
invites attention to complexity” (Eisner, 1997: 8). The latter tenet for the use of
alternative data representation is very much similar to Umberto Eco’s (1989) ‘open
texts’ that offer an unlimited number of textual possibilities of fruition.
25
2.3.1 Two further justifications for alternative forms of data representation:
Writing pedagogy and Multi-genre approach
Furthermore, alternative forms of data representation can find another justification
in writing pedagogy.
The use of multi-genre writing has been around in
methodology circles for years, and “has become a powerful complement to
traditional research papers” (Grierson, 1999: 51). The multi-genre concept has been
hailed as having “the potential to become a major force in developing writing ability
and writing enthusiasm” by offering “a seemingly boundless array of options”
(LeNoir, 2002: 99). Indeed, just juxtaposing widely disparate kinds of texts or
genres together, does not equate the final product with multi-genre writing; an
essential ingredient needs to be present, that of ‘unity of message and scope’ that
reflects the richness of experience (Romano, 2000). Thus, the reader of a multigenre text, as well as multi-genre thesis based on alternative forms of data, requires
a sense of unity that will guide the reading from beginning to end.
This writing pedagogy innovation finds resonance in what James Clifford (1986: 3)
has termed as “literary” approaches in the human sciences, where the researcher
shows a more than keen interest in literary theory and its relation to practice, thus
blurring the boundaries between art and science. Indeed, “ethnographers have often
been called novelists manqué [missed], …the notion literary procedures pervade any
work of cultural representation is a recent idea in the discipline” (Clifford, 1986: 4).
No ethnographer can escape literary processes; keeping the factual from the
rhetorical apart is difficult to attain (Clifford, 1986: 4). The multi-genre writer
presents a vision that “determines the organisational structure of the paper”
(Grierson, 1999: 51) in contemporary times.
2.4
Some limitation of the new thesis or alternative forms of data
representation
Alternative forms of research writing can be taken to another level by including web
sites and other complimentary electronic avenues such as digital video sharing.
These in turn “enact a process of intertextual linking that erases the boundaries
26
between texts, and between author and audience… gather material from many
sources and often inspire readers to contribute more, or to do related work” (Davies
and Shadle, 2000: 432).
Indeed, one personal limitation was my lack of
domestication with these electronic possibilities. Related to my personal limitation
was a problem highlighted by Eisner (1997) that is: the pressing practical need to
publish and share in a conventional way what we have experienced, intuited,
grasped and maybe start to believe in. To date, alternative forms of representations
especially digital ones, are at the borders of what is the acceptable.
However aware of such merits of alternative forms of data representation, and
conscious of the personal and institutional limitations, I cannot but agree with Nell
Duke and Sarah Beck’s (1999: 35) appeal, that is, it is high time for the field of
education to consider alternative formats “in a comprehensive and serious way.” I
consider my thesis is a minor contribution for the paradigmatic change that I
envision for the field of educational studies in Higher Education.
2.5
My exploration or adventure
At this stage of my personal development, I am already overwhelmed by the
possibilities that alternative forms of data representation and multi-genre writing
have to offer to the researcher/ethnographer and writer in me. On one hand, in this
thesis I do present material in a conventional expository way; whole chapters are
written in this way. I am very much aware of what is conventionally acceptable as a
PhD thesis. But then, like Maldon salt on a traditional roast leg of pork, I sprinkle
along my writing parts or sections and intermezzo pieces that draw heavily on the
latest insights as explained above, and celebrate a new more audacious form of
research writing. I find the pure creative aspect of this latter possibility as the place
where I can be more authentic, more free and thus liberating, hopefully, the readers
from the shackles of continuous critical reading and lead him/her to a “secondary
world” (Tolkien, 1938/1964) that is enjoyable and instructive.
27
I find that throughout my thesis I have ventured mostly in two modes of creative
writing: manipulating an established form and juxtaposition or layered text writing.
I tended to experiment with layered-text to better evidence the tension between the
official and the personal, such as in the beginning of the thesis when I was
positioning myself within Maltese culture (vide Chapter 1) or when I wrote on top of
each other two different points of view such as mine and that of my student-teachers
in vignette format (Chapter 9). I found that by writing a layered-text on the same
reality, the reader will be challenged to either merge together the different points of
view, take sides or possibly alienate oneself completely from the whole narrative.
Another example is haiku and senryu genres which I consider as a spiritual writing
very much revered in Japan. I experiment with these genres (vide Intermezzo I),
since poetry is very important to me. To date I have written poetry mainly in
Maltese and this was a first for me, to write (rather than translate) poetry in English
(Portelli, 2008).
I find the idea of a template (or genre type) rather ingenious to use (or abuse?). I use
the famous Wallace Stevens’ (1923/1984: 92-95) poem ‘Thirteen ways of looking at
a blackbird’ in an extended researched reflection of thirteen ways of looking at
becoming (vide Intermezzo II).
I specifically chose to name both pieces as
‘Intermezzo,’ drawing from music while being central they act as a gel between the
remaining chapters.
Hence, I might conclude that rather than write a complete avant-garde piece of
research by embracing in toto and rather uncritically the possibilities of alternative
forms or research writing, I choose to critically and creatively engage sparingly but
wholeheartedly with some of the new modes and potentialities at the modern
researchers’ disposition.
28
CHAPTER 3
Reader-response criticism: An interview for the perplexed
3.1
Preamble to an interview and a table
In Chapter 2 I made a case for a multi-genre approach to thesis writing.
To
demonstrate the potential of such an approach, in this chapter I intend to critically
present an overview of reader-response theory in the form of an interview, and a
synthesis of a number of specific studies on becoming teachers of literature as a
table.
This hypothetical interview takes place between two lecturers. The interviewer is
the product of a literary education very ingrained with text-bound forms of literary
reading. The interviewer, while knowledgeable about reader-response theories and
approaches to teaching literature, is very sceptical about the whole enterprise. On
the other hand, the interviewee is a young lecturer, like myself, with a passion for
reader-response. Having conducted research at postgraduate level using a wide
spectrum of reader-response theories, he considers himself as a passionate
connoisseur of the field. The interview format was specifically selected for its broad
range of advantages, some of which are: it can provide a wealth of information
about a subject or topic; is a flexible and adaptable method to explore the particular
contexts, spectrum of emotions and personal meanings underpinning individual
stories; answers can be clarified and delved in depth; and finally, there is a space for
creative interaction between the interviewee and interviewer, rather informal in style
without, hopefully, being less informative or researched (for a further discussion of
interview’s advantages vide Arksey and Knight, 1999: 32-42).
Towards the end of this chapter, some of the data regarding specific studies on
becoming teachers of literature is presented in a long table, another example of a
non-canonical genre. I chose this model for the potential of a table to present and
29
organise a summary of complex and scattered information from a number of studies,
in a simple, logical and comparative way.
3.1.1
Solid foundations… Malta’s oldest poem
Malta’s oldest known poem, ‘Cantilena’ by Peter Caxaro (Wettinger and Fsadni,
1968), was written circa 1470. In Caxaro’s poem, the poet acknowledges that his
intention was to build a relationship on solid rock and only later on found that he
was actually building on sand. This strong image led me to understand better the
role of ‘foundations’ and to introduce my research’s underpinnings, especially in
this and the subsequent two chapters. No wonder one suggestion often given to
novice-researchers reads: “It is good practice to draw attention to relevant work
reported in the literature which provides the perceived audience with a contextual
context for the new work” (British Educational Research Association, 2000: 5).
3.1.2 Literature review as a sympathetic critique
It is common parlance in Malta that criticism can be one of two kinds: destructive or
constructive. I try to avoid as much as possible a bipolar way of thinking, and
embrace instead a position that I feel particularly attuned with.
While I
acknowledge the variety of criticisms as a wealth in itself, lately I have come to feel
more affinity with ‘sympathetic criticism’ for its method and scope, as well as my
personal disposition towards the reading/critical act. Draper (2000: 24) suggests a
kind of “awareness” that generates “both judgement and understanding, laughter and
compassion,” a kind of criticism that is “balanced by sympathy, and sympathy
modified by a cooler quality of intellectual detachment.” In a certain sense, it is a
kind of playful “transaction” (Rosenblatt, 1965/1995) with these texts, a relationship
that is both involved and detached at the same time.
30
3.2
Reader-response theories: An interview for the perplexed
3.2.1
A personal beginning
beyond the original field (such as
philosophical works being pertinent to
How did you arrive at reader-
literary studies); makes people think
response theories? Were there any
differently
particular incidents that led you
a
subject;
and
finally, be broad in nature, rather
towards a reader-response
difficult to learn and practice since it
approach to literature
seems somewhat endless in scope in
reading/teaching?
such a way as one can never claim
While being arcane to many, literary
one knows it all.
theory has always fascinated me. It
provides possible interpretive keys to
Jacques Lacan’s (2006) interpretation
a myriad of activities and perspectives
of desire is illuminating. Desire, so
during and after the reading event,
claims Lacan, is always a reflection of
many of which are probably hidden to
the reader her/himself.
about
something lacking and insatiable,
Indeed, the
essentially not present, a longing for
only thing I was certain of when
something missing, that eventually
deciding to further my studies was
can never totally be quenched or
that I had a strong ‘desire’ to
attained.
familiarise myself with ‘Theory’.
In my case, what was
missing, the object of my desire, was
contemporary literary theory.
While it is very hard to delimit the
borders and contours of theory,
To partially satisfy my thirst for
following Jonathan Culler’s (1997: 1-
literary theory, I bought two guides
17) discerning analysis, one might
(Culler, 1997; Selden, Widdowson
parenthetically claim that it involves:
and Brooker, 1997) that helped me set
speculative practice; putting forward
the first steps in the complex terrain of
an explanation that should involve a
contemporary literary theory.
certain level of complexity rather than
The
sheer variety of recent literary theories
being obvious, common-sense or
with each distinctive body of interests,
natural; be relevant to other areas
specialised
31
discourses,
particular
principles and methods, and key
novel elucidates: “it really does seem
theorists makes one wonder… Which
as
tentatively explains one’s tensions?
preferred to another and a choice
Which
made for one over the other (Goethe,
provides
the
necessary
specialised language to describe one’s
though
one
relationship
was
1809/1999: 33).
anxieties? Which supplies a variety of
possible solutions to the immediate
Ideas and insights start to grasp one’s
existential problems? Which contains
imagination and construe a whole new
a viable hypothesis that clarifies or
existence or World view. At first it is
enriches one’s World view?
fluid and murky and only later it starts
to build consistency, until it reaches a
critical mass… and one day one
How did you choose one?
wakes up finding oneself expounding
Maybe it was because at that time I
and defending one (or multitude) of
was a secondary school teacher trying
voice/s.
to teach literature and reading to
disengaged classes, but from the array
3.2.2 What’s in a name?
of movements and approaches I
particularly
and
‘attracted’
to
immediately
So what was special with reader-
felt
response when compared to other
reader-response
Had I to describe it, it
theoretical schools and movements?
would be very much like the title of
It provided me with the theoretical
one of Goethe’s novels, Elective
framework and discourse to begin to
Affinities (1809/1999). As Charlotte,
understand the different critical events
one
that
criticism.
of
the
characters
explains,
were
taking
place
in
my
“Affinities are only really interesting
classroom. In other words, it matched
when they bring about separations”
my own deductions about my own
(Goethe,
This
experience and supplemented further
‘separation’ was not out of lack of
insights that, in turn, gave deeper
interest
meaning
1809/1999:
or
32).
competence,
or
a
reflections.
predetermined choice, but rather as
Captain, another character in the
32
to
my
actions
and
‘Reader-response theories’ and
Reader-response critics and teachers
‘reader-oriented theories’… Are
of literature alike, are very much
they one and the same thing?
aware of the importance ‘response’
The theories revolving around the
has in their daily enterprises. To take
reader and reading act owe their name
one instance as an example, suffice to
to: Jane Tompkins (1980) ‘Reader-
say that how one thinks about the
Response Criticism,’ Susan Suleiman
organisation of literature within a
and Inge Crosman (1980) ‘Reader or
syllabus reflects one’s underlining
Audience-oriented Criticism.’
understanding of response.
The
At the
emphasis on the reader is indicative of
same time, ‘response’ “is an elusive
the re-orientation of emphasis when
concept, hard to define and difficult to
compared to previous theories. The
assess”
inclusion of ‘audience’ (vide Blau,
However, I am not disheartened…
(Probst,
2003:
815).
1990; Bennett, 1997) implicates a
‘spectator’s role’ (vide Benton, 2000),
I refer to Alan Purves and Victoria
a performance, be it a play, a poetry
Rippere’s (1968: xiii) definition, in
recital,
evening.
my opinion never surpassed, in the
However, both reader and audience
sense that it is all comprising and
redirect to central position the reading
answers exactly your query…
or
a
literary
event (as against the ‘text’ or the
Aware that it is not quite
the
same
as
what
psychologists call response
to a stimulus, teachers
realize that response to
literature
is
mental,
emotional,
intellectual,
sensory, physical.
It
encompasses the cognitive,
affective, perceptual, and
psychomotor activities that
the reader of a poem, a
story, or a novel performs
as he reads or after he has
read.
‘author’), the time when a text is
given
life.
Moreover,
my
interpretation of the hyphen between
reader and response is that they are
united, one cannot have one without
the other.
Within this context, what would be
a plausible definition of ‘response’?
Is it something akin to the
This definition has stood the test of
behaviourists’ ‘stimulus-response’?
time, more than forty years!
Or is it something different?
33
In a way, I compare response to the
fledged one, the possibility of another
modes of expression and possibilities
form
that have been offered by an updated
Intelligence’. Manifestations of this
version
by
‘intelligence’ are when one ponders
Nearly
about the bigger questions: Who am
instinctively many would consider
I? Where do I come from? Why am I
response to literature as involving oral
here? Where is ‘here’? What does it
or written response, corresponding to
mean to live or die? What is time?…
Gardner’s ‘Linguistic Intelligence’.
and aren’t these questions the very
However,
stuff of literature? When students read
of
intelligence,
that
Howard Gardner (1983).
Purves
and
Rippere’s
of
intelligence,
‘Existential
(1968) definition, entertains other
literature
possibilities that match Gardner’s
questions, they read how authors have
other Multiple Intelligences.
tried
For
to
they
meet
solve
the
the
bigger
puzzle,
and
example: Spatial Intelligence and
hopefully they become uplifted by a
Bodily-Kinaesthetic Intelligence (such
particular text giving him/her another
as when students dramatise a text);
dimension.
Logical-Mathematical
Intelligence
involves more than just written or
(such as when students are asked to
spoken words to a text… it engages
count characters, words, sequence
the whole person.
Therefore,
response
events etc); Musical Intelligence (such
as when students have to match a
3.2.3
piece of music to the rhythm or tone
Orienting oneself round
reader-response
of a text); and Personal Intelligence
(such as when students discover
Can you explain a bit how one can
things about themselves during and
begin to understand reader-
after reading a text especially when
response theories?
the empathise with a character or
A good place to better appreciate the
experience).
principles, applications and relevance
of reader-response theories is by:
In one of his later works, Howard
(i)
Gardner (2006) considers without
comprehend
actually claiming that it is a fully
theoretical paradigm prevalent in most
34
first,
tentatively
the
trying
to
established
British and American Universities,
of close reading or as the French
namely, New Criticism;
prefer to call it explication de text.
historical
New Critics emphasised one way of
development of reader-response from
reading a text, devoid of the emotions
its ‘unacknowledged’ roots in Louise
and passions readers feel as they are
Rosenblatt’s work in the late 1930s, to
reading;
the major anthologies that document
performing an autopsy on a corpse.
its
Indeed, while embracing disparate
(ii)
then,
trace
potential
the
published
in
1980,
reading
and
became
orientations,
like
prevalent and immediate applications
views
and comprehend their limitations;
response theorists seem to agree on
(iii) and finally, map down the
one thing: their opposition, “hostility”
different currents and orientations
(Rabinowitz, 1995: 375) or even
within reader-response according to
antipathy
the relative importance particular
reading as promulgated by Formalist
theorists attribute to the reader in the
theorists
reading act.
counterparts, New Critics.
for
and
reader-
text-oriented
their
close
American
As I like to put it: If reader-response
3.2.4
theorists
New Criticism
common
Or as Elizabeth Freund (1987: 10):
(and/or is) a reaction to New
“[c]rudely summarised, the point of
Criticism?
departure in each story is always a
Once upon a time there was New
dissatisfaction
Criticism… Or at least so the story
with
formalist
principles…”
goes in many reconstructions of
1995: 375).
a
enemy that unites them in purpose.
reader-response criticism was
(vide
have
mission, at least they have a common
So to check if I understand well…
reader-response
don’t
Rabinowitz,
For some, reader-
What was this New Criticism
response has been claimed to be a
‘monster’? Many children and
reaction to the minute detail that can
pupils learnt literature in that way.
go into reading particular texts; a sort
So many teachers, to this day, teach
35
according to its principles! What is
For New Critics, literature is a special
so ‘wrong’ with it?
kind of language, deviating from
New Criticism was a movement in
normal speech while having its own
literary theory that developed in the
particular kind of grammar, creating
1920s-30s and peaked in the 1940s-
its own architecture or structure, and
50s. As a goal, New Critics wanted to
having its own organic unity that
steer
from
cannot be reduced to its individual
subjectivity,
components, but rather understood as
criticism
impressionism
away
and
toward the more reassuring and at
their
time
modern
harbours
a whole.
of
science… contributing to a deeper and
Indeed, the preferred metaphor for a
more objective textual analysis. No
New Critic would be that of ‘literature
wonder that René Wellek and Austin
is a machine.’ The object of study of
Warren (1949/1986) in their study on
literature is literature in itself, that is
Theory of Literature dichotomised the
as an autonomous and self-sufficient
study of literature in the following
organisation of words. Therefore, the
methods and approaches:
predilection of literary terminology

Extrinsic (biography, psychology,
such as irony, tension, symbol and
society, ideas and the other arts);
image.
and

Intrinsic (euphony, rhythm, metre,
Key texts important for New Critics to
style, stylistics, image, metaphor,
disseminate
symbol, myth, narrative fiction,
Practical Criticism by I. A. Richards
literary genres, evaluation and
(1929/2004),
William
literary history).
(1930/1949)
Seven
their
thoughts
are:
Empson’s
Types
of
New Critics have an innate and strong
Ambiguities, and the two influential
predilection to the latter approach.
American textbooks and anthologies
Understanding Poetry (1938/1950)
and
Understanding
Fiction
What were the tenets of New
(1943/1979) by Cleanth Brooks and
Criticism?
Robert Penn Warren.
36
To a certain extent, New Criticism
meaning to different orientations of
was the right method at the right time
literary theory and criticism, he
(Graff, 2007).
Universities were
rightly pinpointed the author, the
becoming frequented by an ever
reader or audience, the universe and
greater number of students from
the text as the four cardinal points of
diverse social backgrounds.
Large
the ‘literary’ compass. While Abrams
literature
(1989b: 3) is referring to poetry, the
studies required a teaching method
same might stand for literature in
that was demonstrable, efficient, that
general: “A poem is produced by a
could be reproduced, easy to be learnt,
poet, is related in its subject matter to
support
basic
the universe of human beings, things
terminology, and a strong belief in
and events, and is addressed to, or
literature as the art and science of the
made available to an audience or
word in the hands of distinguished
hearers or readers.”
authors (mainly white middle-aged
elements
men). Decades later, New Criticism’s
importance at the same time during
strong points became its very own
the reading event. These four cardinal
weaknesses, as evidenced in works of
points of the literary compass, were
reader-response theorists.
represented as in Table 3.1 by Abrams
classes
registering
the
for
canon,
with
do
not
The four
carry
equal
(1958: 3) himself. In Table 3.1 the
text is strategically placed at the
That sounds like a rather long
centre and the other three revolve
digression…
around
I believe that one needs to understand
meaning from it.
it,
drawing
and
gaining
the past to better grasp the present, or
Table 3.1: The literary compass points
as Jürgen Habermas (1994: 55-72)
paradoxically
explained
in
an
interview, ‘The past as future.’
When M. H. Abrams as early as 1955
had to identify the fundamental
ingredients
that
blend
and
give
37

I reckon this is not so much as an
oversight, but rather a depiction of
texts refer to both products and
processes;

Abrams’ predisposition or “implicit
presupposition” (Freund, 1987: 2) – or
authors can also be producers,
artists, directors and the like;

may I bluntly assume, ‘prejudice’? –
and the prevalent belief of his times.
audience
includes
receivers,
readers, viewers; and finally
This is especially so in the rather

melancholic style Abrams (1989a:
This
269) depicts the transition or in
relevant and still pertinent these
Kuhn’s
terminology
categories are in thinking about
“paradigm shift”, that was taking
literature… one might start to doubt if
place in front of his eyes: “The Age of
one can think outside these points of
Criticism, which reached its zenith in
references.
(1962/1996)
worlds rather than world.
update
demonstrates
how
the mid-decades of this century, has
given way to the Age of Reading…”
and the author is “the first casualty in
But did New Criticism fade away?
the literary transaction” (Abrams,
However, that’s not the end of New
1989a: 270). Indeed, “has given way”
Criticism. Its principles, methods and
not without a battle, not without
lure, still influence the current way of
injuries and casualties, not without
conceptualising
personal sacrifices of individuals who
literature, years after the supposed
had to think and move against the
demise
grain.
Notwithstanding the effort of many
of
the
teaching
New
of
Criticism.
teachers and lecturers to challenge the
status
quo,
one
can
still
find
But that was fifty years ago…
unfortunate situations where close
An updated and in a way modified
reading is still practiced, with variable
version of the four key terms was
emphasis and effects, especially in
carried out by Rob Pope (2002: 76–
exam papers.
77), who elucidates and modernises
the understanding of these categories:
While there are a number of factors
contributing to this state of affairs,
38
one strong reason may be attributed to
Freund
(1987:
how literature is taught at university.
apologetically
This influence lingers on because of
Rosenblatt and Walter Slatoff “whose
the perceived strengths that made it
valuable and interesting contributions
popular in the first place: giving the
have
English professoriate a particular
categories of this survey.” She herself
identity and project by virtue of its
acknowledges
distinct analytical method (Graff,
omissions is embarrassingly long”
2007). And this story ends with New
(Freund,
Criticism becoming ‘old’…
apology comes from Jane Tompkins
been
(1980),
158)
rather
identified
Louise
excluded
that
1987:
who
from
“the
list
158).
the
of
Another
identified
Louise
Rosenblatt, again with Walter Slatoff,
as one of the omissions that seem the
3.2.5 Precursors and basic tenets
most significant.
of reader-response
justification:
Therefore, reader-response theory
this
Where there any precursors?
[United
States]
to
reader’s reactions to a poem are
I. A. Richards as the precursor of
responsible
reader-response theorists, for having
for
any
subsequent
interpretation of it. Her works, and
paid attention to literary judgments of
later the work of Walter Slatoff
real people. However, I am not that
(1970), raise issues central to the
convinced of this single handed
find
country
describe empirically the way the
Judith Freud (1987: 23-39) identified
I
Rosenblatt
among present generation of critics in
New Criticism or out of nothing…
And
“Louise
deserves to be recognized as the first
did not develop just as a reaction to
revolution.
Interesting is her
debates
my
that
(Tompkins,
justification in Freund’s (1980) and
have
1980:
arisen
xxvi,
since”
my
emphasis). Alas, the devil is in the
Tompkin’s (1980) own words… albeit
small print, not once but twice! And
their small print, that is in their
she was left out from a nearly all male
footnotes.
selection.
39
Are there different ways of going
Then there are at least two other ways
around reader-response? What is
of ‘reading’ reader-response theories.
your favorite?
Richard Beach (1993) in his survey of
Reader-response was aptly described
reader-response theories with special
as “neither united by a common
reference to teachers’ concerns, tried
methodology nor directed towards a
to explain the text/reader transaction,
common goal” and assigned the
which is at the very heart of all
curious title of a “motley band”
reader-response
(Rabinowitz,
proposing five theoretical perspectives
1995:
375-376).
theories,
by
Therefore, it stands to reason that
on
there are different entry points to
experiential theories, psychological
reader-response.
theories, social theories and cultural
response:
textual
theories.
These
theories,
perspectives
The most common is the historical
“ultimately intersect and overlap”
overview of reader-response theories.
(Beach, 1993: 9). Suleiman (1980) in
Such for example are the invaluable
her
introductions to the three major
criticism outlines six varieties or
reader-response
approaches: rhetorical; semiotic and
anthologies
review
(Tompkins, 1980b: ix-xxvi; Suleiman,
structuralist;
1980: 3-45; Bennett, 1995b: 1-19).
subjective
historical
Related to the historical perspective is
of
audience-oriented
phenomenological;
and
and
psychological;
sociological;
and
hermeneutic.
the description and critical assessment
of
individual
reader-response
Due to reader-response’s conflicting
theorists. This kind of methodology
views and lack of a coherent and
is embraced by Freund (1987) in her
unified
monograph focused on the seminal
practices, Peter Rabinowitz (1995:
contribution
376)
of
Jonathan
Culler,
set
of
proposed
assumptions
to
describe
and
how
Stanley Fish, Norman Holland and
different authors tried to answer three
Wolfgang Iser, respectively.
fundamental questions:
 What is reading?
 Who is reading?
40
 And
where
is
the
source
of
Among the key theorists that had an
article or chapter published in this
authority for interpretation?
anthology one finds: Walker Gibson,
Indeed, and this may bring to a partial
Michael Riffaterre, Goerge Poulet,
closure
“the
Wolfgang Iser, Stanley Fish, Jonathan
categories of reader-response criticism
Culler, Norman Holland, and David
frequently overlap, but distinctions
Bleich.
between them may blur, focus or
United States are collected, with three
collapse depending on the angle of
chapters from theorists from Europe
vision, point of departure or context of
(France and Germany) who however
inquiry” (Freund, 1987: 8).
were visiting lecturers or had strong
of
this
argument:
ties
Theorists from mainly the
to
American
universities.
Wolfgang Iser came from University
3.2.6
A short history of reader-
of Konstanz, where novel ideas were
response and reception
being initiated among its members,
theory
and where Reception Theory found its
strongest exponents.
What were the major milestones in
the history of reader-response?
That same year, Princeton University
The documentation of the inception,
Press had their own book on reader-
development, and ever increasing
response edited by Susan R. Suleiman
influence of reader-response theory
can
be
traced
to
three
and Inge Crosman, The Reader in the
major
Text:
anthologies and two main review
studies.
Interpretation.
The very beginning of
Reader-Response
Criticism:
From
Formalism
to
Four authors in
and Wolfgang Iser – with a host of
until Tompkins in 1980 edited for The
Press
and
Culler, Gerald Price, Norman Holland
1923, never got hold of academia,
University
Audience
more in this collection – Jonathan
Louise Rosenblatt’s work published in
Hopkins
on
Tompkins’s anthology feature once
reader-response while going back to
Johns
Essays
other new theorists, such as Karlheinz
Stierle, Tzvetan Todorov, Naomi
Schor, Michel Beaujour, Louis Marin.
Post-structuralism.
One
41
might
find
it
interesting,
however, that the often quoted articles
Reading, edited by Andrew Bennett
are those of the four theorists that
(1995a) and published by Longman.
appear in both anthologies.
By then, the reader had gained more
attention and feminists found it
Indeed, 1980 has been hailed as “the
important to amplify their voice and
high
be heard. Moreover, better attention
point
criticism”
of
(Bennett,
reader-response
1995b:
3).
is paid to the politics and histories of
Actually, during that same year, the
reading, and psychology has finally
controversial and polemicist Stanley
made it to influence the reader.
Fish issued Is There a Text in the
Class? The Authority of Interpretive
Communities, a collection of articles
And what about reception theory?
published earlier that created a lot of
Three years earlier, in 1984, the
commotion within the field of English
German version of reader-response,
Studies and Literary Theorists.
Reception Theory was equally given
importance in another monograph in
Seven years later, Freund issued a
the same series written by Robert
monograph on The Return of the
Holub (1984). While going back to
Reader: Reader-Response Criticism,
works by Russian Formalists (who
as part of the highly influential New
can be considered very similar to New
Accents series published by Methuen.
Critics with their attention to the text
After a cursory look at two precursors,
and close reading) Holub identified
I. A. Richards and New Criticism,
Hans Robert Jauss and Wolfgang Iser
Freund dedicates a chapter on the
as the major theorists. While there are
contribution of four key reader-
some commonalities between the
response figures: Jonathan Culler,
German
Stanley Fish, Norman Holland and
American reader-response, a closer
Wolfgang Iser.
look at the two shows that, according
school
of
thought
and
to Robert Holub (1984: xii-xiv), they
The third anthology that documents
are different for at least the following
the breath of scope and enduring
reasons:
attention to the reader is Reader and
never meet at the same meetings, on
42
reader-response
theorists
no account do they publish in the
The ‘turn’ to the reader or in Freund’s
same journal, and by no means attend
(1987: 13) word “return” of the
the same seminars or conferences,
reader, are actually two powerful
while on the other hand, reception
words
theorists do. Another divergent aspect
revolution;
is that reader-response theorists work
direction or quality; a trope or a
within different institutions, while
translation;
reception theorists are associated with
recurrence.” The rebirth of the reader
the University of Constance. Holub
was the emblem of the renewed
(1984: xiii) contends that “reception
interest in the reading act as a human
theory may be separated from reader-
activity.
denoting,
“circling
change
a
of
and
position,
replacement;
a
response criticism on the basis of lack
of mutual influence”. Much has been
I reckon there are different readers as
written, but the emphasis has always
there are reader-response theorists.
been on two books, and offshoot
Each and every theorist ascribes the
papers that never actually made it to
reader with predispositions, functions,
catch
wider
history, education, gender, political
audience. I stand to be corrected, but
orientation, and power. Furthermore,
had Iser not been associated with
each theorised or described reader,
reader-response, his influence would
asks a set of questions different from
have dwindled if it would have ever
any other reader, tackles the reading
existed at all.
act in an idiosyncratic approach, and
the
theorists
attention
may
of
a
In sum, reception
have
had
critical
identifies solutions to problems in
attention, but as lime light of a major
specific ways.
force or movement, Reader-Response.
I have also come to believe that nearly
all, if not all, reader-response theorists
3.2.7
The reader, reading and
mould their reader according to
meaning
his/her own identity, and at times
whims as well. This hunch was best
How do reader-response theorists
expressed way back in the 1960s by
define the reader?
Stephen Booth (1983: 138), who
43
hypothesised that the reader created
These are just a few of the different
by the author is “his[her] second self”.
readers that were given birth during
the reign of reader-response criticism:
Basically,
all
readers
can
be
‘the mock reader’ Walter Gibson
subdivided into two broad categories:
(1980), the model reader (Eco, 1979),
 hypothetical, idealised or fictitious
the super-reader (Riffaterre, 1978),
(based on assumptions and beliefs
the literent (Holland), the informed
that are interweaved to form a sort
reader (Fish, 1980), and the resistant
of character in a novel); and
reader (Fetterley, 1978).
 empirical or actual (based on real
reader/s
experiences
a
Some might object that the reader was
bottom-up approach mainly from
always present in the reading act, and
detailed ethnographic observations
therefore
of real readers and then finding
propose nothing new.
common
even be defensible by an interesting
habits
or
taking
patterns
of
action).
reader-response
theorists
This might
article by Tompkins (1980c) ‘The
Indeed, Wolfgang Iser’s (1974; 1978)
reader in History: The challenging
‘implied
an
shape of literary response’ where she
“conventional”
traces the role readers played in
example of the latter type of reader,
literary criticism throughout the ages.
that is “in all their variety, most
However, I contend that what is
liberal humanist readers in the second
original
half of the twentieth century probably
response theorists is the new emphasis
actually do when they read” (Belsey,
on what was always there but never
1980: 36).
For example most of
paid enough attention to: the reader.
Rosenblatt’s (1936/1995; 1978/1994),
And “[b]y refocusing attention on the
Holland’s (1975) and Bleich’s (1978)
reader instead of the text as the source
insights about the reader are drawn
of literary meaning, a new field of
from real readers in schools or
inquiry is opened up” (Freund, 1987:
universities.
10).
reader’
outstanding
albeit
might
be
Fundamentally,
the
reader is the one that lives the reading
act or event.
44
and
peculiar
to
reader-
In what sense is reading within a
a product of a particular society or
reader-response paradigm different
groups of individuals with power,
from, let’s say, New Criticism’s
with a great component residing in the
close reading?
individual’s
Under the hands of reader-response
construct the World through their
theorists, reading regained respect, as
language, which in part pre-exits the
an action performed by a human
individual who, in turn, is not viewed
being, an active agent who does not
anymore as a unified subject, but
simply translate dead symbols on a
rather as a process, a nexus of
page into meaning, but rather is an
conscious and unconscious forces
active participant in the reading act.
which can never be fully explained.
subjectivity.
People
With the advent of reader-response
critics, reading is no longer an
To put it simply, New Critics and
innocent, transparent activity. In line
reader-response critics are
with structuralist and postmodern
fundamentally in disagreement on
trends,
the locus of meaning in the reading
language,
the
very
stuff
literature and reading are made of, “is
act. Is that right?
always in some degree unstable,
To a certain extent, the problem of
indeterminate,
meaning in literature is akin to the
double,
duplicitous,
other to itself, different – and
children’s
therefore subject to misinterpretation”
donkey’s tail onto an image of a tail-
(Freund, 1987: 18). Or as Catherine
less donkey. There are three major
Belsey (1980: 4) succinctly expressed:
possibilities…
game
of
sticking
a
“The transparency of language is an
illusion.”
literary
There are those that ascribe meaning
theorists and possibly readers alike
to the author, namely E. D. Hirsch
seemed natural, common-sense and
(1967: 1-23) would be a strong and
obvious,
radical
virulent proponent of this theory,
rethinking of the premises that kept in
especially in ‘In defense of the
place
author.’
the
What
among
following
propositions,
a
was
not
anymore tenable. Language becomes
The author’s intention, so
well theorised from ancient times has
45
gone under scrutiny by W. K.
to initiate the reading act, s/he is a
Wimsatt and Monroe Beardsley, both
sine qua non like the text and the
New Critics, in their famous essay
author, however more important since
‘The intentional fallacy’ (1946/1954:
it is though him/her that literature
3) where they contend: “the design or
becomes alive.
intention of the author is neither
available nor desirable as a standard
for judging the success of a work of
And where do you stand?
literary art.” In their crafty hands, the
Maybe, then, the whole issue is not a
intention of the author was dubbed as
question of identifying meaning in
a fallacy (i.e. an erroneous belief) and
one place, but rather striking “the
then shredded it down to pieces.
critical balance” (Rabinowitz and
Rabinowitz,
1980)
between
the
Then there are those who ascribe
contenders.
meaning to the text itself, namely
theories as well as subjective theories
New Critics or people who consider
fall short of providing a satisfactory
textual criticism as their prime source
and
of inspiration. Formal features of the
recognising that the ideal balance
text, like metaphors, symbols, and
between objective and subjective
grammar, when rightly identified and
criticism cannot be attained, however
dissected churn out the meaning of the
desirable this might be, “unless we
text.
try, the whole enterprise of criticism is
definite
passionless,
However,
objective
answer.
pointless,
While
or
both”
Third, there are those who attribute
(Rabinowitz and Rabinowitz, 1980:
meaning in the reader – like Bleich
932).
(1978), Fish (1980), and Holland
(1989) – without the reader who
I have argued about a position that
decodes, understands, interprets and
takes
creates a response to the text within a
positions. The reading act is complex,
particular
intricate and dynamic, more than can
social-historical-cultural
flight
away
from
bipolar
context, the text can never come alive.
be
Thus, a competent reader is required
position. The ever changing context,
46
explained
by
one
absolutist
historical, economical linguistic etc,
Bleich (1975; 1978). The birth of
and personal variables in the reader
the reader needed a radical stance,
will blend in such a unique way that
a theorist that explored with great
no one theory can explain all reading
courage the reader’s role in an era
events.
and landscape of textual analysis.
Therefore, I prefer not to

choose to align with one position, and
‘Affective
stylistics’
rather consider as much as possible
‘interpretive
communities’
contextual and subjective variables
Stanley Fish (1980).
that impinge on the reading act by
the
becoming a reading event.
marvelously the dynamics of a
latter
and
by
Especially
concept
explains
classroom in search of meaning.

3.2.8
Key contributions of reader-
Culler (1975).
response theorists
explicates
parallels
reader-response key figures?

merit mention and that require a
of
much can be discerned about the
writing
the

Rosenblatt (1978/1994). All these
and
‘The
subjective
reader’
reader’s
‘Open
and
closed
texts’
by
A basic
typology of texts that aids any
non-literary
attempt at schematisation.
reading.

and
Umberto Eco (1962).
concepts provide a deeper reading
literary
style
contribution.
reader/text interaction’ by Louise
of
‘Gaps’ in texts by Wolfgang Iser
information and through which so
takes during reading, and ‘the
theory
linguistic
space the reader has to supplement
aesthetic
continuum’, the ‘stance’ the reader
transactional
with
(1974). Fascinating idea about the
detailed study in their own right.
/
incremental
competence.
Various insights come to mind that
efferent
the
acts, in something that draws
fascinating contribution/s of some
‘The
A concept that
contribution of individual reading
Can you highlight some of the most

‘Literary competence’ by Jonathan

and
‘Envision building’ by Judith
Langer (1995). Based on the idea
‘subjective criticism’ by David
of
47
stance,
the
reader
passes
she expounded her ideas of the
‘transactional’ (rather than interaction
– where the text and reader are two
separate entities) metaphor for the
reciprocal nature of the reading act,
between the text and the reader, that
leads to the event or evocation of the
poem/literature.
“The
relation
between reader and signs on the page
proceeds in a to-and-fro spiral, in
which each is continually being
These are just a few of the key
affected by what the other has
concepts that are attributed to reader-
contributed. [….] Meaning emerges as
response theorists that have survived
the reader carries on a give-and-take
the ten year test!
with
the
signs
on
the
page”
(Rosenblatt, 1995: 26). The role of
the
3.2.9
grasped
write what comes to their minds when
they read unfamiliar texts.
theory that, in your opinion, is more
This
technique was later appropriated by
explanatory than others?
literature pedagogues like Michael
I find Louise Rosenblatt to be the
and
be
6) by letting readers of different ages
do you prefer? Is there a particular
readable
may
“inductively” (Rosenblatt, 1978/1994:
Louise Rosenblatt
From the above list, which author
most
reader
and Peter Benton (1990: 24-35) in
inspiring.
Examining
Literature as Exploration, published
Poetry,
especially
in
‘Making your own notes around a
in 1938 and running in the fifth
poem’ where they stress the reader’s
edition in 1995 by The Modern
thoughts, emotions and memories in
Language Association of America,
making sense of new texts.
with a foreword by Wayne Booth, is
These
rudimentary jottings will serve as a
the key text for any teacher of
basis for a more fully fledged
literature. In ‘The literary experience’
response to the text.
48
Indeed, “the
reader’s creation of a poem [or any
3.2.10 The possibility of an
literature] out of a text must be an
active,
self-ordering
corrective
process”
1978/1994:
11).
and
integrative model
self-
Can there ever be an ‘integrative’
(Rosenblatt,
This
model, a model that blends together
process
textual features and readers’
transforms the reading act in an event.
characteristics?
As already explained, the distinction
The reader performs different things
between objectivity/subjectivity at a
when reading aesthetic texts and non-
first
aesthetic texts, depending on the
rudimentary
stance s/he takes before, during and
his/her
particular
explanation
a
very
for
the
A middle ground between these two
relationship with the text “during the
opposite conceptions of the reading
actual reading event” (Rosenblatt,
1978/1994: 24).
offer
reader-response theories and theorists.
In an aesthetic reading the reader is
of
can
contraposition New Criticism and
upon completion of the reading act.
conscious
glance
act, is that of a method that is a more
Rosenblatt is very
dialogical or, in Rosenblatt’s ideas, ‘a
much aware that her theory be
transactional theory of the reading
interpreted as dualisms rather than
act’.
what she intended, as a continuum.
Within her framework both
reader and text are needed to the
Actually, in her ‘Epilogue’ to the
fruition of literature. A text becomes
1994 edition of The Reader, The Text,
a poem or literature only with the
The Poem she stresses this feature, for
hands of the attentive reader. While it
not once was such a distinction
is difficult to determine exactly the
misinterpreted (vide Rosenblatt (1993)
contribution of the text and reader, the
‘The transactional theory: Against
reading act in Rosenblatt’s hands
dualism’). Her contribution is not so
reaches a theoretical explanation and
much a distinction based on textual
critical balance that never before was
features, as the stance the reader
hinted at or achieved.
takes, the lived through experience of
However,
various differences within both the
the text, and the activities s/he does
text’s structure and, when known, the
with the text.
49
author’s intentions, and the reader’s
supreme. A telephone directory, the
motives
stance,
instruction pamphlet with medicine or
produce a different reading. I find her
the electricity bills are all closed texts.
position on the reader’s contribution
No ambiguity is left for the reader to
as very sensible, however, I tend to
decipher since there is none.
and
identity
or
move to other theorists to explain how
textual features might impinge on the
On the other hand, texts with an
reading act.
aspiration
to
be
considered
as
literature generally is open to different
and various interpretations, since their
Well, where do you look for a
author does not supply them with all
‘better’ explanation of the
that is needed to be filled by the
contribution of textual features?
reader. Or the authors play with what
Umberto Eco (1989) produced an
Iser (1978) called ‘blanks,’ gaps or
ingenious distinction between ‘open
lacunae. By the choice of words and
texts’ and ‘closed texts’.
In Eco’s
how they are organised one next to the
(1989: 4) own words: “A work of Art,
other, writers offer an uncalculated
…is a complete and closed form in its
number of possibilities while at the
uniqueness as a balanced and organic
same time constrain others from
whole, while at the same time
having a free hand. Readers activate
constituting an open product on
these possibilities according to the
account
cultural conventions of their time; a
of
its
susceptibility
to
countless different interpretations…”
text remains a text so long as no one
Closed
one
reads it. An open text requires the
interpretation, the average reader’s
active participation of the reader. A
response is wholly predetermined and
text is never a poem, a story, a play
contained within the text; the reader
without the reader. A text becomes
needs to carefully unpack what the
concretised upon every reading; a text
author stylishly engraved in the text.
needs a reader to become literature.
texts
contain
These texts supply all that is needed to
be
understood
according
to
the
author’s intention, that in this case is
50
Can you explain further the
its
involvements
within
the
readers’ contribution in the reading
community.
act as you conceive it?
concept of interpretive communities is
Readers are more active agents than
of assistance.
Here, Fish’s (1980)
just decoders of symbols on a page.
Louise
Rosenblatt
proposed
a
(1978/1994),
reading
model
And how can Rosenblatt’s view of
that
the reader and Eco’s conception of
emphasises the readers’ contribution
the text merge?
according to the ‘stance’ they take
If one superimposes both views, one
when reading a text. A reader can
has a more holistic approach to the
either read a text just for pleasure,
reading act and the conception of
what Rosenblatt calls aesthetic stance
literary
(to be carried away with), or just to
gain
information,
efferent
criticism.
Table
3.2
synthesises both approaches, with
stance
quadrant 1 being the most desirable
(from Latin, meaning to carry away
when reading literature.
with). Following a gestalt philosophy
where the whole is considered more
Table 3.2: The intersection of textual
features with reader’s stance
than the sum of its constituting parts,
the two stances are the extremities of
Social
Context
a continuum, where the grey area is
much bigger and richer than the tips
Reader’s
Stance

Aesthetic

alone. Variables within the reader can
The Text
produce different actualisations of the
same text upon every reading.
Closed

Open
Efferent

Possible consensus on the ‘best’ or
most suitable interpretation can be
reached after a lengthy discussion and
Just give me some time to reflect on
dialogue among class members or
this model… You have the text…
community of readers. Therefore, the
the reader… the social context of
reading
the reading act… And where is the
experience
while
being
primus motor, the first mover: the
unique and personal is enriched with
51
author? Surely without him/her
explicated in the often quoted last
there can never be any text, any
sentence “the birth of the reader must
reading act, any readers!
be at the cost of the death of the
Therefore, are we back to square
Author” (Barthes, 1967/1988: 172).
one?!
Nearly all reader-response theorists
On the other hand, Foucault is
would agree that the author is better
concerned
dead than alive. It is interesting to
historical reconstruction of the author;
notice the shift from the text (New
it is when the author disappears, in
Criticism) to the reader. The authorial
his/her absence, that s/he becomes the
intention, so strong for ages, had
fountain of meaning: the author-
finally succumbed to the second blow
function. Foucault (1979/1988: 202)
or attack, this time from a new
remarks
paradigm with the “reader-power”
“mark[s] off the edges of the text,
(Belsey, 1980: 29) at its epicentre.
revealing, or at least characterizing, its
with
that
the
the
social
author’s
and
name
mode of being.” Then, he goes on
Two essays seem to supplement
describing the author-function: as
valuable insights on the identity of the
objects
author: Roland Barthes ‘The death of
spontaneity as the attribution of a
author?’ Barthes’ argument presents
discourse to an individual.
the idea that in literature the author
“The text always contain a certain
such a way as the language speaks for
number of signs referring to the
itself. The release of the text from the
domineering
controlling
power
of
author” (1979/1988: 204).
and
authorial
3.2.11 Reader-response and
consciousness, creates ample space
for
interpretation
of
Unlike
Barthes, Foucault acknowledges that:
distances him/herself from the text in
the
the
different cultures and epochs; its non-
Foucault (1979/1988) ‘What is the
of
appropriation;
variability of the author-function in
the author’ (1967/1988) and Michel
shackles
of
the
pedagogy
text
understood as an anonymous set of
Therefore, as you were implying in
citations, performed by the reader,
your last point, how do you envision
52
the link between reader-response
wanted reader-response theories to
theory and pedagogy?
inspire and trace an innovative way
Besides the theoretical framework/s
for initial teacher training.
that developed during the late 70s and
response is not just a melting-pot of
early 80s, reader-response’s major
abstract and less so ideas about
influence
reading and teaching literature. I am
was
and
still
is,
in
pedagogy.
Reader-
coming to understand reader-response
as a framework or paradigm through
Reader-response
theories
were
which
I
can
comprehend
such
introduced to prospective teachers by
complex
a number of American and English
communication
pedagogues.
They translated into
Reader-response principles, diverse as
classroom practice reader-response
they are, can offer another way of
principles and insights. Among the
reading and guiding what happens in
most influential were: Alan Purves,
the initial teacher education.
Theresa Rogers and Anna Soter
democratic spirit that hovers around
(1995), Judith Langer (1995), Richard
most reader-response theories alone
Beach and James Marshall (1990),
cannot bring about the necessary
Nicholas Karolides (1997) and Robert
change.
ideas
as
identity,
and
education.
The
Probst (1987) in America; and in the
United Kingdom, Michael Benton and
I am close to those that are of the
Geoff Fox (1985), Michael Benton
opinion that some reader-response
with a number of his students (1988),
critics
Stephen Parker and Michael Hayhoe
conceptual, and maybe ignored or
(1990) to name a few. They managed
assigned
to translate theoretical principles into
practicalities of a day-to-day life in
a
classrooms
series
of
classroom
friendly
activities and methods.
have
mostly
less
valued
importance
and
school
to
the
the
context.
Therefore, this missing link, inherent
in most if not all literary theory
I did not stop at reader-response as a
discourse, needs to be grafted with
framework for methods to be later
other discourses very much in vogue
used in the literature classroom.
amongst
I
53
educationalists,
namely:
reflective practice (vide Chapter 4)
though
and assessment for learning and
ramifications, binds two [or three]
portfolios (vide Chapter 5). About the
discourses side by side…” thus
strong relationship between grafting
amplifying their resonance.
complex
in
its
potential
and writing – via the morphological
root graphion, stylus, from which
‘graph’ and ‘graft’ derive – Jacques
Can you elaborate further on the
Derrida (1992: 153) contends that
idea of pedagogy and reader-
“one must elaborate a systematic
response theory?
treatise on textual graft” by focusing
I consider reader-response theory to
on
be the theoretical framework most
footnotes,
quotes,
epigraphs,
principal text etc. Derrida (1983: 389)
influential
goes as far as to contend that “To
teachers of literature. The impact of
write means to graft. It’s the same
reader-response theories on classroom
word.” The metaphor extends to the
practice is very difficult to measure
reader’s role, for his action is like
precisely, however, as Probst (2003:
‘grafting’ on the original text, hence
814) rightly contends: “Within the
producing a new text; intimately
past 30 or so, more and more teachers
related
agricultural
and researchers have begun to take
metaphor ‘dissemination’ to scatter
serious interest in the concept of
about
response
to
another
seeds,
the
way
a
reader
among
contemporary
to
literature.”
understands a text – “the process by
Notwithstanding
the
which in language, the meaning of a
teachers
face
term or set of terms is distributed and
classrooms and on a philosophical
diffused throughout the language
level, a reader-response literature
system without ever coming to a final
classroom is still the most viable
end” (Nizamis, 2001: 103).
It is
alternative, for “[m]uch of the current
‘reading-as-writing,’ to use Terry
research in response to literature lends
Eagleton’s (1996: 122) coinage when
strength, however, to a democratic
discussing
Barthes.
vision of the classroom” (Probst,
While writing on Derrida, Culler
2003: 822). And a democratic vision
(1983: 136) argues, “A simple graft,
of the classroom is one that tallies
‘pleasure’
in
54
might
difficulties
in
their
with the progressive movement of
‘text’ (that is “any instance of verbal
education and pedagogy, with Malta’s
record” Pope, 2002: 245). Within a
National
“transactional”
Minimum
Curriculum
(Rosenblatt,
(Ministry of Education, 1999), and
1978/1994) conception of reading
most importantly with the first hand
literature, no one reading is the same
experience of student-teachers on
as another. This might send shivers
teaching practice (vide Chapter 10)
down the spine of those stubborn
and teachers alike who have tried
believers in one plausible, objective or
experimenting and employing such a
valid interpretation to a text, usually
method in their classrooms day in day
the one thought or intended by the
out.
and
author (vide Hirsch, 1967); rather than
enjoyable learning can occur when the
a series of responses valid in their
classroom
own right and on their own merits.
Indeed,
“significant
respects
the
unique
responses of readers, encouraging
them to make meaning of texts in
The unpredictability and openness of
personally significant ways” (Probst,
response might be problematic to
2003: 822).
many teachers, especially in those
contexts where schools have placed
According to Benton (1992: 17), one
great importance on correctness, and
paradox of reading a story, albeit
the measurability of learning (vide
literature in general, is that it is both
Chapter 5).
personal, private and singular, and
personal
yet, at the same time cooperative.
classroom or lecture room is in itself a
Response is both an idiosyncratic
rewarding
educational
experience, which is augmented and
mimicking
what
enhanced
the
among mature readers or ‘reading
“interpretive community” (Fish, 1980:
groups’ (Hartley, 2001: 73-101; 125-
167-173), that is the classroom. The
138) in real life situations.
if
shared
within
The act of sharing
responses
within
the
experience,
usually
happens
‘reader’ has to work hand in hand
with the ‘author’ (vide Bennett, 2005;
Barthes
1967/1988;
Foucault,
Therefore, what is the teacher’s role
1979/1988) as mediated through the
in the response-based literature
55
classroom? For sure, in your view,
A distinctive characteristic of a
s/he must do something different
reader-response classroom is what
than just explicating the text!
gets done with the text. Is that
The
right?
teacher’s
role
is
another
important aspect in the response-
In the process of providing a more
based literature classroom.
specific
The
and
rewarding
reading
starting point is if the teacher is
experience, one of literature teacher’s
working with a prescriptive syllabus,
roles, if not his/her pedagogical
or has to design one within a
imperative, is the adoption of ready-
framework and according to the
made tasks or the creation of one’s
students’ needs. Syllabus design or
own activities and exercises. The aim
scheme of work design, related with
of these tasks related to literature
text selection is a big difference in
teaching is two-pronged: on one hand,
exerting
and
facilitate a deeper understanding of
(Bourdieu
the text on an individual basis; but
one’s
“pedagogical
professional
authority”
and Passeron, 1970/1990).
also,
a
means
discussion
and
to
facilitate
sharing
of
the
the
Within the classroom walls, many a
community’s response to that text. To
time the teacher acts as a facilitator
that end, any literature teacher can
for individual exploration of the text
consider a number of task-options,
and subsequent community sharing of
ranging from the most guided or
response, mainly through discussions.
closed
A critical mission entrusted to him/her
unstructured or open.
is the quality reading of the text.
slightly different, tasks can be typified
Another responsibility is making sure
according to “the degree to which the
that an aesthetic stance is taken by all
students’ responses are constrained
students throughout the lesson, which
[or enabled] by the task” (Ahmed and
can then be followed and rendered
Pollitt, 2008: 4).
unforgettable by assigning class and
guided tasks “the student has little
homework that helps the readers
freedom to choose how to respond,
further elaborate their response.
and their response will be judged only
to
the
most
creative,
To put it
Consequently, in
by how correct it is” (Ahmed and
56
Pollitt, 2008: 5). Towards the other
as handouts, exams, grades and
end of the spectrum, “the idea of
attainment targets, that are considered
correctness
distant, if not alien, from life outside
becomes
relatively
unimportant, and students are assessed
schools.
mainly for the quality of their
answers… the emphasis shifts from
To bridge this gap, a literature teacher
what students’ minds can do to how
with reader-response at heart might
well they can do it” (Ahmed and
adopt or adapt one or more of the
Pollitt, 2008: 5).
following
activities
that
aid
the
student-reader in the process of
While oral expression might seem the
making
most obvious and, to a certain extent,
divided into four: graphics (diagrams,
natural task, schools traditionally tend
cartoons,
to favour writing as a medium of
(photographs,
expression. This notwithstanding the
performance
fact that “oral and the written literacy
dance…); and film/video (animation,
are different but supporting facets of
scripted stories…) (Purves, Rogers
language use” (Cook-Gumperz, 2006:
and Soter, 1995: 159).
reading
visible,
charts);
mainly
illustrations
posters…);
arts
(mime,
music,
3). Indeed, this follows the preference
within my Western culture of the
Writing in response to literature has
written word over the spoken word, as
particular functions: to demonstrate
exemplified in Walter J. Ong’s (1982)
learning and engagement; to convey
work, following the transition from
emotions; to imagine as a creative
orality to literacy.
Moreover, this
spin-off; to inform; and to persuade or
preference of the written word is at
convince (Purves, Rogers and Soter,
the heart of what Margaret Meek
1995: 159). The sharing of response
(1991:
involves writing or non-verbal means
124-147)
calls
“schooled
literacy”, that is, the divide between
of expression.
the exigencies of the world outside
school (talking about books) and how
Additionally, Purves, Rogers and
the school manipulates and translates
Soter (1995: 160) distinguish between
them into discrete tasks and tools such
two kinds of writing about literature.
57
When the writing focuses more on the
3.2.12 Studies on becoming
text than on the reader’s impressions,
teachers of literature
the end result would be an analytic
There have been a number of
piece of writing, such as a review, a
studies on becoming teachers of
critical appreciation, a summary, etc.
literature. Can you highlight those
Conversely, when more attention is
studies that best present a vivid
paid to the reader’s emotions and
picture of the transition from
reactions rather than on the text – such
reader to teachers of literature?
as in character profile, a creative
Spread over nearly 20 years, from
reaction, letters to…, and alternative
1994 to 2003, the studies in Table 3.3
beginning or endings – the written end
document a constant flow, albeit
result shares more characteristics with
rather sparse, of interest in the
an impressionistic kind of writing.
intricate
Within a transactional framework
two
distinction
‘content
knowledge,’ has been inspiring for a
always the danger of squeezing out
number of related studies and reviews
the second in favour of the first”
(vide Grossman, Wilson and Shulman,
(Protherough, 1986: 40). When the
1989; Bullough, 2001; Turner-Bisset,
kind of written activity or activities
1999). Not all studies refer to reader-
devised by the literature teacher, are
response theories, even if implicitly
mainly close answers and nearly
becoming
between
knowledge’ and ‘pedagogical content
in examination contexts “there is
on
difficult
and England. Lee Shulman’s (1986)
different
stances to the reading act. However,
verging
times
literature, mostly in the United States
importance, since they are styles of
evidencing
at
processes of becoming teachers of
both should have their fair share of
writing
and
they discuss a relationship between
a
the reader, the teacher and the text.
comprehension exercise in its own
right, I term these kinds of tasks as
‘pseudo-sharing activities’.
58
How can one arrive at a picture of
hallmark of fuzzy generalisations are
becoming teachers of literatures
qualifiers, such as ‘may,’ ‘might,’
based on a number of qualitative
‘almost,’ ‘sort of,’ ‘in all likelihood,’
studies?
‘could,’ ‘it is highly probable that,’
None of the studies in Table 3.3 on
‘may be,’ and ‘sometimes,’ to name a
their
conclusive
few. Using this stratagem, qualitative
evidence about the characteristics of
researchers legitimate certain kinds of
the trajectory from readers to teachers
knowledge.
own
presents
of literature.
However, when taken
together – across time and places –
One major contribution of fuzzy
there seems to be some common
generalisations
trends.
qualitative studies is the fact that
at
the
end
of
“they give cumulative coherence to
When
drawing
conclusions
from
the field of investigation” (Bassey,
qualitative studies it is worth keeping
2001: 17).
in mind the concept of ‘fuzzy
generalisations’ (Bassey 1998; 1999;
Together they present what can be
2001). While recognising that there
considered as incremental evidence
might be exceptions especially in the
that points towards a number of strong
light of the highly intricate human
trends or patterns of behaviour, that
nature, these are statements that “are
will be summarised in the following
expressed
in
paragraphs.
(Bassey,
2001:
a
tentative
10),
way,”
“imprecisely
probable” (Bassey, 2001: 20), are
“reasonable and proper outcomes of
the findings” (Bassey, 1999: 52),
express “a possibility but no surety,”
and by their very nature contain “an
element of uncertainty” since “if
something has happened in one place”
then it might “also happen elsewhere”
(Bassey, 1999: 52).
Indeed the
59
Clift, Renée, T. Learning to teach
English – Maybe: A
study of knowledge
development
The Making of a
Teacher: Teacher
Knowledge and Teacher
Education
60
1991 1, 25 year old
women learning
to teach
secondary school
English
1990 3 beginning
English teachers
without
professional
preparation
3 graduates in
fifth year of their
teacher education
preparation
Participants
Grossman,
Pamela L.
Date
1984 N/A
Title
Murison
The poetry teacher:
Travers, Molly, Behaviour and attitudes
D
Author
Table 3.3: Key studies in becoming teachers of literature
 The teacher has more effect on the results than the particular
method chosen to teach a poem.
 Some of the key findings of this study support the idea that good
poetry teachers in their practice adhere to some of the following:
emphasise the pleasure of reading poetry; choose stimulating and
engaging activities; negotiate with their students the texts to be
read; listens to students’ response; and supports students’ emotions
when reading.
Main findings
Case study
 Interviews
 Videotapes
 Observations
 Journals
 Learning to teach, at least for this student-teacher, is a multifaceted process that involves an evolving and developing:
knowledge of literary analysis; principles of teaching language and
literature; instructional design; awareness of assessment and
evaluation; management skills; pedagogical problem solving;
appreciation of student diversity; and self-image as a teacher.
 While these aspects are important, this student-teacher had to
negotiate between all aspects, and she found particularly difficult
to fill in the gaps in her knowledge schemes rather quickly in order
to function well in school, and succeed.
Contrasting case study  Prospective and beginning teachers may find it difficult to
to investigate the nature reconceptualise the purposes for teaching their respective subject
of pedagogical content
on their own their.
knowledge
Literature review
Method
61
1993 23 PGCE
studentteachers
Hardman,
Frank and
Williamson,
John
Goodwyn’s (1992)
questionnaire
An open-ended
questionnaire
1992 9 secondary 6 audio-recorded loosely
studentstructured interviews
teachers (6
English / 3
Maths)
enrolled in
the content
area reading
course
Holt-Reynolds, Personal history-based
Diane
beliefs as relevant prior
knowledge in course
work
Student teachers and
models of English
1991 5 junior high Case Studies
school
 Interview (8 times per
teachers
teacher)
 Observations (8 times
per teacher)
 Field notes
 Transcriptions of
audio-tapes
 Written artefacts
Teachers reading /
Readers teaching: Five
teachers’ personal
approaches to literature
and their teaching of
literature
Zancanella,
Don
 Student-teachers recognised all five models of teaching English
proposed by Brian Cox (1991: 21-23).
 Student-teachers seem to favour personal growth model and cultural
analysis, with the latter being the one with the broader degree of
support.
 The student-teachers have a broad definition of canon. This may be
attributable to courses on the matter in their undergraduate course.
 There seems to be an agreement between what student-teachers
believe during their course, and what established teachers hold as
meaningful in their practice.
 Student-teachers prefer traditional methods (lecturing and telling) and
resist new research-based methods.
 Student-teachers agree that teachers should listen to their students.
 Personal histories of pre-service teachers appear to function as prior
knowledge of what makes a ‘good’ teacher and what they consider as
‘good’ teaching (p. 343).
 Student-teachers should be invited to explore their lay beliefs during
training since they have a powerful influence on the way new teachers
will act.
 The teachers’ conception of literature is limited by the ‘school’
approach to literature, that is an undue emphasis on comprehension
and the learning of literary terms, and very much influenced by what
appears in state-mandated achievement tests.
 Institutional constraints can be overcome by pedagogical knowledge
already present in the teachers.
 Teachers underestimate and lack an understanding of their own
personal approaches to literature, and how this can act as a
counterbalance to the state’s conception of literature teaching.
How do prospective
teachers think about
literature and the
teaching of literature?
Readers becoming
teachers of literature
Becoming a teacher of
literature
Holt-Reynolds,
Diane and
McDiarmid,
Williamson, G.
Agee, Jane
Round, Sue
62
1997 8 PGCE
students
1997 2 pre-service
students in a
secondary
language arts
program
 To these pre-service students, prior experience with literature
(documented through a life-history) is an important source of
knowledge.
 These student-teachers have strong pre-existing conceptions of
the teachers’ role that impinges heavily on their thought process
before going into the classroom and their actions in the
classroom.
 Their ideas on the teaching of literature were in conflict with
what they encountered during their methods course.
 Teacher training courses need to be challenging and supportive at
the same time.
 Prospective English teachers hold a set of beliefs about what is
literature and this helps them identify their literary qualities.
 Prior to interview, they were not aware about these guiding
beliefs.
 Teachers’ reasoning about literature is context and task specific,
that is depending on the text supplied to them and what they have
to do with it, they elaborate their definition of what is literature as
they go along.
Interview held just after the  Developing classroom strategies or successful approaches was at
first block teaching
the top on the student-teachers’ priority list.
practice
 Student-teachers recognise the importance of reflection on their
practice.
 It is emphasised that beginner teachers need to have a theory of
learning and teaching a subject; they need to articulate their
theory and the implications of such a stance.
 Student-teachers are torn between having to tell the right answer
and letting different interpretations circulate during a discussion.
 “Becoming a teacher of literature is not an easy process and it
takes time, thought and a lot of hard work” (p. 303).
Naturalistic case study
 Field notes
 Audio-taped interviews
 Reading protocol
 Syllabi, handouts and
assignments
 Portfolios
 Logs
 Lesson plans and tests
 Videotapes of students
teaching literature during
pre-service teaching
1994 An unspecified Extensive audio- and
group of
video-taped interview
undergraduate protocol
English majors
who plan to
teach English
at high school
level
Negotiating
different
conceptions about
reading and
teaching literature
in a preservice
literature class
The diversity of
poetry: How
trainee teachers’
perceptions affect
their attitudes to
poetry
Agee, Jane
Ray, Rita
1999
1998
 Student-teachers had a positive experience of poetry during primary
education. Then, their enthusiasm enjoyed in primary school,
dwindled at secondary school when student-teachers “ceased to enjoy
and understand poetry” (p 403).
 Enjoyment and appreciation seem not to work hand in hand when it
comes to conceptualising poetry in primary (enjoyment), and
secondary and university course (appreciation) where a degree of
specialised knowledge seems to be required.
 Authors’ visits to schools can be a wonderful experience to transmit
the enjoyment of poetry, but student-teachers need to be shown how
to deepen the experience with their students and learn to listen and
value their comments or responses.
 Student-teachers need to have the opportunity to respond freely to a
number of texts without the anxiety of examinations.
48 2nd year
A 9 question questionnaire
trainees in
primary
teaching course
before they
started the part
of the course
relating to
teaching poetry
63
 Student-teachers had high-school preparation in English.
 15 student-teachers out of 24 chose English for the love of reading.
 10 students said they wanted to transmit the love of reading to future
generations.
 18 students emphasised the importance of content knowledge.
 Most student-teachers hold a conception of literature as the classics.
 While development process is not linear, change in the studentteachers’ conceptions and beliefs takes time and a lot of effort. This
was closely tied to three aspects: their prior experience with literature;
their culturally accepted idea of a teacher of literature; and their
lecturer’s influence on what it means being a teacher of literature.
 Student-teachers found the lecturer’s ideas about reading and teaching
reading as “too different to be credible” (p. 85).
 Course design is an important feature to bring change in beliefs and
conceptions about literature.
 “Change was not only complex but also uncomfortable” (p. 85) for
both lecturer and student-teachers.
24
 Observations during
undergraduates
lectures
in a secondary  Field notes from 20
methods class
observation sessions in
(13 females and
class
11 males)
 Audio-taped whole-class
and small-group
discussions
 Audio-taped interviews
with students
 2 audio-taped interviews
with a professor
 3 question protocol
administered at the
beginning and at the end of
course
 Course syllabus
 Pre-service students’
portfolio
2000
2001
Holt-Reynolds, What does the
Diane
teacher do?
Constructivist
pedagogies and
prospective
teachers’ beliefs
about the role of a
teacher
Beavis,
Catherine
“It makes you
realize, really, just
how deep your
subject is”:
Literature,
subjectivity, and
curriculum change
1999
Holt-Reynolds, Good readers, good
Diane
teachers? Subject
matter expertise as
a challenge in
learning to teach
Case study
 Entrance and exit interviews (119
question protocol in four parts:
Personal History, Defining
literature, Critical Theories &
Teacher roles) – over 18 months
 One interview per semester
 Total of five interviews that were
audio-taped and videotaped.
 Subject matter expertise does not automatically translate into
an understanding of how to present literature to children.
 A definition of ‘subject matter expertise’ should “include an
awareness of concepts, ideas, and dispositions that must be
actually taught to others” (p. 43)… very much in line with Lee
Shulman’s (1986) concept of ‘pedagogical subject matter.’
64
9 teachers
Interviews over three years
 While the literature curriculum changes, teachers still persist in
using older discourses – more than nostalgic attachment to the
‘known’.
 During their training, teachers encountered critical pedagogy,
however the context they were teaching supported or
undermined their willingness to individually appropriate and
enact the new framework.
 Curriculum reform requires a “repositioning or realignment”
(p. 59) of teachers’ attitudes towards the new definition of the
subject.
 Teachers are committed to their subject due to the pleasure they
get out of doing their job; reform should guarantee that the
same pleasure is maintained.
Taylor, 1 of  A 119 question protocol as part of  Some to be teachers of literature avoid questioning their
16 English
an entrance audio-and video-taped personal beliefs as a knower, by uncritically taking on board a
majors
interview broken in four 2 hour
constructivist stance to teaching.
enrolled in
sittings conducted by a team of
 Student-teachers need to better understand the theoretical
any English researchers
underpinnings of the practical ways of teaching literature they
department  An exit interview by a team of
encounter and expected to assume as their own way of
’ 300-level
researchers
teaching.
courses
 Brief interviews at the end of the  Student-teachers should be made aware that the ‘new
three semesters
strategies’ in teaching are a means to an end, not ends in
themselves.
1 female
expert
enrolled in
a collegelevel
teacher
training
program
Considering the
context for
appropriating
theoretical and
practical tools for
teaching middle
and secondary
English
Breaking up is hard
to do: English
teachers and the
LOVE of reading
Newell,
George, E.,
Gingrich,
Randy, S. and
Beumer
Johnson,
Angela
Goodwyn,
Andrew
2002
2001
65
circa 700
PGCE
studentteachers,
mostly
female,
spread over
13 years
9 studentteachers
(3 males and
6 females)
 Group discussions
 Candidates interviewed
individually by one or two
interviewees
 Reading autobiographies
(1000 words long) read and
analysed from a
phenomenological
perspective
 Circa 75% of student teachers choose English for their love of
reading, especially novels.
 The researcher applies Appleyard’s scheme of readers (as player, as
hero or heroine, as thinker, as interpreter, as pragmatic reader) to
the degree of involvement evidenced by student-teachers.
 Narratives help define a problem.
 The student-teachers’ emphasis on reading can have a “distorting
influence” (p. 77) on the students they will be teaching, as they will
carry a limited view of the reading possibilities that can be explored
in the classroom.
 English is perceived as being a female domain (p. 78).
 Student-teachers need to be careful when passing judgements on
their students’ reading development, such as interest in serial
reading.
 Initial student-teacher
 Appropriating new methods of teaching and learning requires an ininterviews and card-short
depth analysis of the theoretical principles underlying the practices
task interviews
that are promoted at university.
 Retrospective student Some student-teachers embraced ‘theory’ in three ways. First, as a
teacher interviews
way of reflecting on practice to ameliorate themselves and the
 Classroom observations
quality of their students’ experience. Second, a number of student Student-teachers debriefing
teachers considered theory as something to be “endured as a rite of
 Cooperating teachers
passage through their respective programmes” (p. 320) before they
interviews
become teachers adopting without adapting what others tell them to
do. And still others regard teaching as a question of mastering
procedural routines and finding what works for themselves and their
students.
 Different contexts or activity settings shape and complicate
appropriation of new methods and the development of identity
mainly as a result of personal history.
2003
Preparing future
English teachers: The
use of personal voice
in developing English
student teachers’
identities as language
teachers
The love that dare not
speak its name? The
constitution of the
English subject
beginning teachers’
motivations to teach it
Burley,
Suzanne
Ellis, Viv
2003
2003
Hamel, Fred L. Teacher
understanding of
student
understanding:
Revising the gap
between teacher
conceptions and
students’ ways of
knowing
Student teachers’ voices  Critical review of language teacher education program at London
– written and spoken
Metropolitan University.
Language autobiography  The first language has powerful impact on the students’ identity (p.
(their own language
60).
development and its
 Student-teachers shifted their views of what is English; at the
relation to the role of a
beginning of the course it focused mainly on literature, and at the
teacher of English)
end of course English was treated more holistically.
 This study is not conclusive when it comes to identifying what
spurts the revision of their views… if it was the training in language
teaching or ‘cross subject dialogue’.
 Teachers steer students’ interpretation toward received
interpretations.
 Teachers consider and interpret students thinking and understanding
according to their own personal ways of dealing with texts.
 Reader-response methods while being student-centred do not solve
the difficulties students face when reading complex texts and the
mechanics of reading.
 Teachers should become aware of how students deal and interact
with texts.
66
339 studentA double-sided A4 open-  74.6% of the student-teachers reported that they chose to teach
teachers
ended questionnaire
English for their “love” of English, rather than the love of reading
(51 primary and
or literature and working with children or job satisfaction.
283 secondary)
 This love of reading may clash with a redefinition of English as a
from 26 training
subject that includes new areas like media.
providers
2 cohorts of
PGCE students
(number not
specified)
3 teachers and 3 Qualitative case study
students
 Thick accounts of
practitioner reflection
 Students: Think-aloud
protocols
 Teachers: Four semistructured interviews
with each teacher,
Classroom observation
and a brief survey
focusing on subjectmatter backgrounds
and experience
teaching literature
So what is the probable itinerary of
individual personal history forms a
the journey?
strong idea of what it means to be a
The complex journey to become a
‘good’ teacher of literature and what
teacher of literature in all likelihood
constitutes as ‘good’ teaching of
consists of many paths and roads,
literature
peculiar to the institution where the
Goodwyn, 2002).
training to become a teacher of
desirable that during a methods
literature is taking place (be it at
course, these personal beliefs undergo
university with a number of lecturers,
a personal and communal scrutiny.
(Holt-Reynolds,
1992;
It is highly
school-based in direct contact with a
cooperating teacher or mentor, or a
Course design plays an important role
healthy mix of both) and depending
in the facilitation or difficulty of the
very much on the personality and
appropriation of new teaching styles
adaptability of the student-teacher
more
within the institution and school
conception
context (especially during teaching
(Agee, 1998).
practice).
Learning to teach, for
confirm the idea that the teacher is
student-teachers, including those of
more important than the method
literature, is a complex and a non-
(Murson, 1984).
linear endeavour (Grossman, 1990;
important ingredients in the course’s
Clift, 1991; Round, 1997; Agee,
philosophy
1998).
reflection (Round, 1997) and a hands-
conducive
of
to
a
teaching
modern
literature
The studies seem to
one
Among the most
finds
constant
on approach (Beavis, 2001), where
One’s personal history as a reader and
student-teachers have the first-hand
student of literature (how one was
opportunity to experience what the
taught literature from primary up to
new ways of teaching look like.
university, what and how was read
during the formative years, who were
It is very difficult to examine and
the teachers that taught him/her), may
deconstruct one’s personal history,
be considered as the most potent agent
thus making the journey to become a
along this journey (Newell, Gingrich,
new
Beumer,
difficult.
2001).
Within
each
67
teacher
of
literature
However,
more
unexamined
beliefs
and
untheorised
practices
find it difficult to conceptualise such a
impinge just the same on one’s
classroom dynamic, this coming in
classroom practice, maybe more than
direct
the
practices and creating tension in
contribution
of
methodology
study-units (Grossman, 1990; Holt-
conflict
with
classroom
student-teachers (Agee, 1997).
Reynolds, 1992). On the other hand,
examined beliefs, even when new
These studies seem to support Lee
beliefs based on new ways of thinking
Shulman’s (1986) valuable insight,
about a subject, tend to be the most
that
durable and lasting effect on student-
pedagogical subject knowledge, while
teachers.
related, are two distinct forms of
subject
knowledge
knowledge
(Holt-Reynolds,
and
1999).
There seems to be a general trend that
Student-teachers do not know all the
teaching literature study-units across
subject content they will need to
the board (or better still across the old
teach, thus they need to fill in the gaps
and new world) move away from text-
during their own practice (Clift, 1991;
bound criticism towards a more
Agee, 1998). Many student-teachers
eclectic
reader-response
opt for becoming teachers of literature
criticism, so as to produce a more
because of their love for the subject
dynamic reading of texts.
This
(Goodwyn, 2002; Ellis, 2003). Good
its
grasp of the literature one is teaching
difficulties, especially in trying to
and the skills to read and respond to it
conceptualise how pupils think as they
in a constructive way, while a sine
interact with texts (Hamel, 2003).
qua non for any literature teacher,
This
institutional
does not automatically convert into
predilection seems to be a direct
mastery of teaching those same texts
collision with student-teacher’s belief
to
of what it means to read literature
McDiarmid, 1994; Beavis, 2001).
(Zancanella, 1991).
Knowledge of how students learn,
form
transition
time
of
is
not
lecturer’s
without
and
Since many a
student-teachers
(Holt-Reynolds
and
not
how they read a text, how they make
response-based
sense out of it, what activities are
approach to teaching literature, they
desirable to be conducted in class and
experienced
a
have
students
68
at home, creating analogies, moving
their basic needs, and you are led into
from the known to the unknown in
trouble. Literary theory and theory in
small steps according to a syllabus
general become relevant once the
and the like, all contribute to the
student-teacher sorts out the day to
development of pedagogical subject
day
knowledge (Murison, 1984; Holt-
students.
Reynolds, 1992; Round, 1997).
empathise with pupils, when student-
problems
of
dealing
with
It is very difficult to
teachers and lecturers have different
Especially during their first teaching
preoccupations depending on their
experiences, beliefs and images of
role and professional development.
learning the subject are more powerful
But
than ideas encountered at university or
understanding should come from the
while reading on them (Agee, 1997).
top, and not be expected from the
Reader-response methods on their
bottom.
own
do
not
solve
the
communication
and
prime
preoccupations when entering the
classroom, especially the procedural
3.2.13 Some criticisms to these
and mechanical aspects of teaching.
studies
Therefore, student-teachers of all
Can one put forward some
subjects require support at this initial
criticisms to these studies?
stage that does not necessarily mean
about
the
methodology,
but
teaching in general.
Only when
student-teachers
the
solve
Indeed, one might identify a number
in
of inherent limitations in the studies in
Table 3.3, and perhaps put forward a
initial
number of sympathetic criticisms too.
mechanical teething problems (such
Firstly, these studies refer exclusively
as discipline and classroom routines
to British and American studies, when
like the timetable) can the lecturer
the same trajectory is experienced
help them move beyond in the realm
each year by nearly all language
of methodology. The lesson seems to
teachers. Indeed, studies have shown
be: Give them the bread and butter
that particular countries have different
and you win their hearts and soul; try
traditions of teaching literature (vide
to convert them without supporting
69
Purves,
1973;
perspective
for
of
a
European
development
poetry,
programme.”
teaching
of
the
And
overall
finally,
the
Thompson, 1996; and for a world
relationship between the student-
view of teaching literature, Brumfit
teachers and their lecturer is not
and Benton, 1993). Their diversity in
explored enough.
methodology makes them difficult to
replicate.
3.2.14 Some limitations of readerWhile these studies are conducted by
response
female researchers, what is more
That has been a thorough
striking, for me, is the lack of a more
presentation of reader-response
critical account of being a teacher of
strongest points and the processes
literature from a feminist perspective.
of becoming teachers of literature.
Within the qualitative paradigm, it is
Certainly reader-response has its
rather difficult to circumscribe to one
number of criticisms and
particular aspect, in this case, study-
limitations!
unit, the change and development that
One
is documented and measured in the
in which critical conversations are
timing within the whole course, the
the
aims
of
framed” (Rabinowitz, 1995: 403).
the
Indeed, “the turn toward the reader
practicum, as well as details about the
may well be the single most profound
nature, philosophy and mode of
assessment of the study-unit.
shift in critical perspective of the post-
Peter
war years” (Rabinowtz, 1995: 403).
Smagorinsky’s (2001: 91-97) review
of
a
Secondary
Language
Notwithstanding
Arts
that
a
rosy
and theories have their fair share of
the lecturer’s background and the
context
such
assessment, reader-response theorists
Teaching Methods syllabus, identifies
cultural
unwavering
that “it has certainly altered the terms
be provided about the duration, the
and
and
contribution in the critical scene is
research. Not enough details seem to
structure
major
detractors and encountered criticisms
preservice
too.
students will be entering in, as two of
“the most significant influences on the
70
Unquestioned canon. In time of
(especially,
detailed scrutiny and revaluation of
Malta) seem to suggest that textual
the canon (vide Bloom, 1993: 15-41),
criticism, alas New Criticism, has the
reader-response theorists seem to be
upper-hand
oblivious of what is read; they are
literature evaluation contexts such as
more involved with the reading act
examinations. The practice seems to
that
commitment
lack the coherent values of traditional
towards a democratic society, fails to
examinations that are valued within a
examine the ‘closed’ list. They are
community. Therefore, the effect in
engrossed in debates about reading
mainstream teaching while desirable
without politicising enough what is
is rather marginal.
their
political
but not exclusively, in
in
classrooms,
and
read.
The gendered reader. At the start
Durability. A second criticism that
reader-response
can
reader-
promise of being an inclusive theory.
response theorists is their enduring
However, in retrospect the reader
impact of their insights.
In critical
many a time just happened to be the
discourse, they changed the focus, but
middle-age, white and white collar
they are not the lens. More prominent
reader with a flair or at times enduring
discourses, such as deconstruction,
passion for literature. Little attention
queer theory, feminist studies, seem to
was paid to female readers, readers
animate,
from
be
brought
if
not
against
clutter,
research
journals.
theories
different
had
the
socio-cultural
backgrounds, queer readers etc.
I
think Norman Holland’s (1975: 205)
Transferability. One major side-effect
‘pseudo-egalitarian’
of reader-response theories is their
rather
supposed impact on today’s and
presumptuous: “Nothing in this study
tomorrow’s teachers of literature.
will support the idea or suggest that
While it is agreed upon that reader-
superficial resemblances of gender,
response seems to be prevalent at
age, culture or class … have any
university in teacher training courses,
important role in and of themselves in
data originating from the classrooms
response”. As other reader-response
71
comment
short-sighted
is
and
critics
have
acknowledged,
these
something! Similarly, the advent and
popularising of reader-response.
‘superficial differences’ are all but
superficial.
Indeed, the “resistant
reader” (Fetterley, 1978) has amply
Suleiman (1980: 3) in the incipit for
demonstrated
her introduction to the varieties of
that
women
read
differently than men.
audience oriented criticism, describes
change thus:
Some revolutions occur
quietly: no manifestos, no
marching and singing, no
tumult in the streets; simply
a shift in perspective, a new
way of seeing what has
always been there. New
words enter the vocabulary,
old words suddenly take new
meaning;…
Lack of a coherent manifesto, vision
or
programme.
Reader-response
theorists seem to be happy in their
own company and mix well with
others. Their identity is rather in a
flux, and together they do not stand so
much to a coherent programme.
Starting off as a reaction to close
reading practices of New Criticism,
3.2.15 A paradigm shift in literary
reader-response theories have shifted
theory
the attention towards the reader’s
With all these criticisms, in
contribution in the reading act. While
conclusion, can you truly say that
different positions about the nature
reader-response theories can be
and
considered as having actually
contribution animate the discussion,
attained a paradigm shift in the
one
firmament of literary theory?
importance such theories have had on
True revolutions do not happen with a
classroom
lot
lasting
literature. A number of activities and
revolutions, so much envisioned and
tasks inspired from reader-response
desired by many revolutionaries, can
theories
only happen in a subdued tone, when
classroom animated by teachers that
no one is really fighting for or against
reflect about response.
of
fanfare.
Long
72
quality
cannot
of
reader’s
underestimate
practice
have
the
in
entered
the
teaching
into
the
On a personal level, reader-response
theories have greatly influenced my
consciousness of the ‘transactions’
between
individuals,
especially
teachers and pupils, and lecturers and
students.
Charles Baudelaire’s (1861/1992: 1-2)
Les Fleurs du Mal (The Flowers of
Evil), commences with a poem ‘Au
Lecteur’ (‘To the reader’), which ends
with a powerful nearly distressing
address, not to be taken literally, for
sure: “Tu le connais, lecteur, ce
monstre délicat, / – Hypocrite lecteur,
– mon semblable, – mon frère!” (vv.
39-40) [“You know it, reader, that
fastidious fiend, / – Hypocrite reader
you, – my like, – my brother!”].
73
CHAPTER 4
A personal reflection on reflection
4.1
Professionalism and reflective practice
After reader-response theories and their relation to teaching literature, the second
pillar of my research is the concept of reflection. While there is no one-size-fits-all
teacher training programme (vide Cochran-Smith and Zeichner, 2005), recently, or at
least for the past twenty to twenty-five years, there has been an ever increasing
consensus that one key feature of any initial teacher training course that merits
commendation is that of reflection (Zeichner and Liston, 1996; in the UK, Pollard,
2005; and within the European context, Clarke and Chambers, 1999). This change in
emphasis, or for some, a completely new discourse altogether, was inspired from the
evolving ‘professionalism’ that had infiltrated the teaching profession (McCulloch,
Helsby and Knight, 2000).
In the Maltese context, there seems to be a hiatus between teachers in schools and
teacher trainers at the Faculty of Education’s conception of professionalism. For
people within the Faculty of Education professionalism is intimately related to
reflection: “It is through reflection that you become a teacher” (Chetcuti et al. n.d.: 7).
On the other hand, one picture of teachers in schools is “…all that professionalism
means is the improvement of their salary attached to it and that they care nothing for
anything else” (Wain, 1991: 16). These two conceptions of professionalism – one
related to reflection and the other to salary – ring true with my experience as a teacher
and as a lecturer. I don’t find that one can reconcile these perspectives; one has to
shrewdly negotiate between the two, as a viable modus vivendi.
One way to improve teachers’ perception of professionalism is by instilling in preservice teachers and novice professionals a commitment to adaptability in front of
perpetual change, via reflective process. The birth of this new model of professional
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teacher is synonymous with the birth of the ‘reflective practitioner’ (Schön, 1983;
1987).
4.2
Reflection in educational contexts: Setting the stage
As already noted (Chapter 3), the last two stages of Judith Langer’s reading act, refer
to looking back at an experience. Indeed, Louise Rosenblatt (1978/1995: 132-133)
herself had already postulated a stage after reading, “when talking about the literary
work we must have recourse to introspection and memory…” Rosenblatt (1978/1995:
133) goes on to emphasise “the reader’s crystallizing a sense of experienced work as a
whole, as a structure that, despite its ethereal nature, can be an object of thought.”
The reader entertains the work and can speak about it in retrospect. This reading
stage might lead to “reflecting on what has been evoked, in the effort to realize it
more keenly, to arrive at a tighter organisation, a firmer knitting-together of elements”
(Rosenblatt, 1978/1995: 133). Rosenblatt (1978/1995: 134) could not have been
clearer on the power of reflection in reading, than when she states: “Reflection on the
literary experience becomes a re-experiencing, a re-enacting, of the work-as-evoked,
and an ordering and elaborating of our response to it.” Rosenblatt uses introspection
and reflection rather interchangeably, but only one word found great attention in the
latter half of the 1980s and first half of the following decade.
Reflection has entered the parlance of teacher education, to become “a popular slogan
in both teacher education and professional education” (Leat, 1995: 161). I agree with
Ardra Cole (1997: 12) when she states that reflection “might very well be one of the
most frequently used (and misused) words in the teacher education vernacular.” Alan
Tom (1992: ix) is surprised by “the spectacular rise of reflective teaching,” adding
“[w]hile I did anticipate more attention to reflective teaching among teacher
educators, I was completely unprepared for the explosion of interest that occurred in
the late 1980s” (p. viii). I strongly agree with John Loughran’s (2002: 33) contention:
“Reflective practice has an allure that is seductive in nature because it rings true for
most people as something useful and informing.”
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Kenneth Ziechner and David Liston (1996: 4), in their influential monograph
Reflective Teaching: An Introduction contend that: “During the last decade, the slogan
of reflective teaching has been embraced by teachers, teacher educators, and
educational researchers all over the world.” Zeichner and Liston (1996: 7) claim that
“many teacher educators” from diverse if not opposite backgrounds, “have jumped on
the bandwagon” of some version of reflective practice, making it one of the most
“powerful and valuable” movements in the American educational system. Apart form
making the strong case for reflective teaching, they identified and theorised five
different traditions of reflective practice that have acted as guiding principles in
education reform and teacher education: the academic; the social efficiency; the
developmentalist; the social reconstructionist; and the generic tradition (Zeichner and
Liston 1996: 51-62). I find these categories useful to frame my own training as a
teacher, thus appreciating better my values, and my own beliefs and practices with my
student-teachers. I always find myself moving back and forth models according to
particular events or periods.
Generally speaking, reflection is considered “to be a desirable attitude and practice to
foster among educators” (Cole, 1997: 12). One valuable contribution of reflective
practice, as recognised by Morwenna Griffiths and Sarah Tann (1992), is that it can
serve as a link between personal with public theories. Different levels of reflection –
I. Rapid reaction, II. Repair, III. Review,
IV. Research, V. Retheorising and
reformulating – were identified as possibilities to engage with the ‘self’ (levels I-III),
and the ‘other’ or public (levels IV-V). Others, consider reflective teaching as a
“reaction against the view of teachers as technicians who narrowly construe the nature
of the problems confronting them and merely carry out what others, removed from the
classroom, want them to do” (Zeichner and Liston, 1996: 4).
4.3
Delineating the contours of reflective practice: Dewey and Schön
In 1933 John Dewey’s How We Think, distinguished between ‘routine thinking’ and
‘thinking as reflection.’ Routine thinking is associated with impulse, tradition and
authority, uncritically maintaining things as they are. This is in line with what Dan
Lortie (1975: 61) claimed to be “an apprenticeship of observation.” Indeed, different
professions pass from one generation to the next by sheer observation and meticulous
76
copying the person who already possesses the trade; likewise, one enters the teaching
profession after a process of socialisation with those who already have grasped the
trade. Lortie (1975: 67) recognised that this kind of socialisation within the teaching
profession alone “does not, however, lay the basis for informed assessment of
teaching technique or encourage the development of analytic orientation towards
work.” The major shortcoming within this kind of thinking and acting is the lack of
innovation, creative and critical thinking, space for improvement or the
problematisation of events that occur ‘naturally’ within a school or classroom setting.
The end result is a model of ‘teacher-as-technician’ (Zeichner and Liston, 1996: 2-4)
or to use a metaphor from science fiction literature, a ‘replicant’ or ‘cyborg’ (that is, a
half-human and a half-technological being). Lortie (1975: 67) stresses the importance
of “training experiences which offset their individualistic and traditional experiences,”
otherwise “the apprenticeship-of-observation is ally of continuity rather than change.”
On the other hand, a reflection – in part rational and logical, but one that is also
emotional and intuitive – is a conscious and deliberate stance towards reality as a
whole rather than fragmentary or isolated event.
Active, persistent, and careful consideration of any belief or supposed
form of knowledge in the light of the grounds that support it, and the
further conclusions to which it tends, constitutes reflective thought.
…it is a conscious and voluntary effort to establish belief upon a firm
basis of reasons.
(Dewey, 1933: 6)
These are: (a) a state of perplexity, hesitation, doubt; and (b) an act of
search or investigation directed toward bringing to light further facts
which serve to corroborate or to nullify the suggested belief.
(Dewey, 1933: 10)
According to Dewey, there are three attitudes that are necessary for reflective
thinking: open-mindedness, responsibility and wholeheartedness. A reflective thinker
is open to different alternatives, entertains different solutions, embraces the possibility
that one’s thinking might be limited and that others can contribute to the better
understanding of a situation or problem be it the students, the teaching/learning
process or the school.
Responsible action is being aware of consequences.
Underlining every student-teacher’s and teacher’s action, is a moral and ethical
dimension. And finally, wholeheartedness is elaborated by John Dewey (1933: 30)
accordingly: “A genuine enthusiasm is an attitude that operates as an intellectual
77
force.
When a person is absorbed, the subject carries him on.” Undivided
commitment to the cause at hand is a requisite for reflective practice.
It is interesting to note how these three attributes resonate with, if not derived directly
from, Oriental philosophy, mainly Zen. And are not open-mindedness, responsibility
and wholeheartedness, three attributes through which one achieves inner peace,
serenity, and long-lasting happiness by focusing on the here and now?
“The
challenge of Zen is to meet each day, each moment with a clear mind and a cleansed
spirit, so that the moment to moment union with existence becomes the highest
teaching” (Dunn Mascetti, 2000:14). Dewey’s three attributes offer an insight to me
as a teacher, teacher-trainer and a person with a keen interest in oriental philosophy
and especially haiku/senryu literature (Portelli, 2008). They are a means to focus on
the present: by being a responsible agent of one’s actions, staying open to different
points of view or interpretations of phenomena that naturally occur, and engaging
with all one’s passion with the present, what is usually called ‘mindfulness.’ Shunryu
Suzuki (1970: 40) rightly concludes that: “The awareness that you are here, right now,
is the ultimate fact.” However, reflection in Deweyian terms and according to Zen
philosophy is not a process of self-mortification, but rather a means towards selfimprovement… “Our practice cannot be perfect, but without being discouraged by
this, we should continue it. This is the secret of practice” (Suzuki, 1970: 73).
Zeichner and Liston (1996: 11) identify three kinds of consequences achieved by
reflective thinking: personal, academic, and socio-political.
Reflective action is
sceptical about commonly held beliefs and solutions, always on the lookout for
possible explanations for unfolding events and problems that ensue, preferring the
broader picture to the micro-event. For example, rather than asking if I have reached
a goal during a lesson, the reflective teacher might consider the implications of his/her
actions. Reflective teachers in this sense act in a way that reflective action becomes
their second nature. Wholeheartedness refers to the authentic enthusiasm or passion,
and unconditional commitment to a cause.
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In The Reflective Practitioner, Donald Schön (1983: 61) states that it is through
reflection that a professional “can surface and criticize the tacit understandings that
have grown up around the repetitive experiences of specialized practice, and can make
new sense of the situations of uncertainty or uniqueness which he (sic) may allow
himself to experience.” As a reaction to ‘technical rationality’ (Schön, 1986: 21-49)
and based on when the reflection takes place, he distinguished between: ‘reflection-onaction’ – defined by Jennifer Greenwood (1993: 1185) as “a cognitive post-mortem” –
and ‘reflection-in-action’. Both are necessary to the reflective practitioner. However, a
word of caution is necessary… in emphasising these two moments of reflection, Schön
“implicitly undervalues reflection-before-action” (Greenwood, 1993: 1186) or fails to
appreciate ‘anticipatory or prospective reflection’ (Conway, 2001).
The subjects of reflection are as unlimited as the situations (protected, messy,
indeterminate and more), contexts (predictable or unexpected) and experiences s/he
enters in. If the teacher reflects prior to a lesson for example during the planning stage,
and just after an educational event for example when s/he is writing a lesson evaluation,
the outcome of a lesson, then this type of reflection is called reflection-on-action. The
kind of reflection that takes place during a lesson, is called reflection-in-action. In such
situations, reflection-in-action “hinges on the experience of surprise” (Schön, 1983: 56)
and “is central to the art through which practitioners cope with the troublesome
‘divergent’ situations of practice (Schön, 1983: 62). According to Schön, teachers must
frame a problem, consider possible solutions, decide on one way to tackle and possibly
solve the problem, review the outcome of such an action and reframe the problem or the
new context. In so doing, one “becomes a researcher in the practice context” (Schön,
1983: 68), even if it is “not generally accepted – even by those that do it – as a
legitimate form of professional knowing” (Schön, 1983: 69).
By this distinction, Schön gives credit to knowledge that is generated during practice,
knowledge-in-action. If teachers scrutinise their behaviour and try to problematise their
actions and maybe theorise from their practice, in a process of ‘framing and reframing’
(vide Schön, 1983, 1987, and for a practical application of this concept Yusko, 2004) of
a situation, then they may have set foot on the path of self-improvement. That is why
for the reflective practitioner, the process of reflection on his/her experience, is a lifelong endeavour. One might rightly conclude, as Zeichner and Liston (1996: 22, my
79
emphasis) do, that Schön’s “contribution of reflection-in- and on-action and the
accompanying spiral of appreciation, action, and reappreciation adds both texture and
substance to Dewey’s understanding” of reflection.
4.3.1
Some ‘other’ definitions of reflection
Both Dewey and Schön, and other studies have come up with a plethora of meanings of
the word under scrutiny. Nearly every author defines reflection or reflective practice in
his/her own particular way, to an extent that reflection becomes “a nebulous concept not
necessarily amenable to simple translations articulated in the abstract” (Stefani, Clarke
and Littlejohn, 2000: 163). I am very much aware that too much talk and writing about
reflective practice may have “brought with it a confusing and potentially distorting set
of definitions and uses of the concept and possible meanings” (Bright, 1995: 69). My
search for an initial meaning of reflection stands from the fact that I had to share with
my student-teachers my own conception of reflection (vide Chapter 9) to get the
communication going, and progress from there. I cannot but agree with: “If as teachers
and tutors we cannot share with our students a concise operational definition of the
concept [reflection], it is difficult to present reflective learning as a highly valued means
dealing with the complexities, challenges and uncertainties inherent in personal and
professional development” (Stefani, Clarke and Littlejohn, 2000: 164). Therefore, I
intend to present some definitions that in more than one way have attracted my
attention, and most of which I have discussed with my student-teachers, and then reflect
on what I find engaging, and at times, perplexing in them.
Philippa Cordingley (1999: 183) suggested that reflective practice “is sustained activity,
which uses research, evidence and some research-related processes as the basis for
continuing professional development, and for identifying, understanding and tackling
teaching and learning problems in classrooms.” Two key points seem to emerge from
the above definition… While I acknowledge the valuable contribution of research, I am
very disquieted by the quasi-blind importance assigned to research- and evidence-based
decision making. Second, the labelling of events as ‘problems’ may carry negative
connotations. Once more, if I shift from a Western frame of mind to the Far East’s, this
80
latter contention immediately brings along a ray of hope: just shifting the word to
another dictionary, Chinese to be exact, problems, alas, are problems, according to the
first symbol, but the second character that together forms the word problem denotes
‘sites for opportunities.’
Further, this way of coming close to a definition of
reflection in relation to problem solving is very much related to and dependent on
consciousness, for indeed… “becoming more reflective means achieving greater
consciousness through some form of speech that is embedded in, and generated
through, action” (McLaughlin, 1997: 186).
James Calderhead (1992: 140-141) defines a reflective teacher as one who is able to:
“critically examining one’s own and other’s educational beliefs, and developing a
coherent, articulate view of teaching and learning. [….] analyze their own practice
and the context in which it occurs; the reflective teacher is expected to be able to
stand back from their own teaching, evaluate their situation and take responsibility for
their own future action.” Reflective practice may be an essential tessera in breaking
the cycle of routine decision making, and looking from a distance at one’s practice
within the broader picture of a professional practice.
Thinking of oneself as a
translator of somebody else’s programmes, syllabi and schemes of work, may lead to
burnout, a sense of helplessness, lack of professional satisfaction, and possibly
viewing oneself as an under-respected member within an impersonal system.
However, the practice of teaching is greatly enhanced when teachers have the time to
reflect individually and as a group. I agree with Thomas Farrell’s (2004: 7)
unavoidable, albeit negative, conclusion, if reflection is not given the importance it
merits: “Teachers who do not bother to reflect on their work can become slaves to
routine and powerless to influence their future careers.”
Christopher Day (1993: 84) points out that reflection “is identified as being an
essential part of learning” and goes as far as describing this characteristic as “underresearched.” This facet of the definition of reflection was picked up by Jennifer Moon
(2001: 1) who stresses that one central feature of reflection is “that it lies somewhere
around the notion of learning.” Within this particular context, I like Jack Mezirow’s
(1990a: 1) definition of learning “as the process of making a new or revised
interpretation of the meaning of an experience, which guides subsequent
understanding, appreciation, and action.”
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A definition of reflection and its twin sisters, critical reflection and critical selfreflection, by Jack Mezirow (1990b: xvi) emphasises the idea of problem solving and
the undeniable importance of one’s beliefs in coming to terms with it.
Reflection: Examination of the justification for one’s beliefs, primarily
to guide action and to reassess the efficacy of the strategies and
procedures used in problem solving.
Critical reflection: Assessment of the validity of the presuppositions of
one’s meaning perspectives, and examination of their sources and
consequences.
Critical self-reflection: Assessment of the way one has posed problems
and one’s own meaning perspectives.
I particularly like the heightened consciousness and responsibility of one’s actions,
that emanate from these definitions.
Apart from that, these three definitions of
reflection encapsulate the idea of problem solving, by ‘framing and reframing’
(Schön, 1983) what was perplexing or puzzling in the first place. In the practice
context, John Loughran (2002: 35) emphasises the importance of “developing a range
of ways of seeing a problem.” It is not automatic for student-teachers to identify a
problem, and it is a question of having a teacher trainer to tell them this is a problem.
Prior experiences determine what one identifies as a problem.
Therefore,
communication between teacher trainer and student-teachers is important to better
understand what constitutes a dilemma, how it could be framed and reframed, and
identify possible ways of action to solve it. “Reflective thinking generally addresses
practical problems, allowing for doubt and perplexity before possible solutions are
reached” (Hatton and Smith, 1995: 34). A suspension of quick judgment opens a door
for reflection, develops an attitude that is hesitant to conclude without careful
consideration of alternatives.
One final definition is that by Andrew Pollard (2005), in the influential publication
Reflective Teaching. Based on the work of Dewey and others, Pollard (2005: 14-15;
and for a deep discussion of these characteristics pp. 15-24) identified seven key
characteristics of reflective practice, amongst which I consider the most important the
following four quoted ‘maxims’:
 Reflective teaching is a cyclical or spiralling process, in which teachers monitor,
evaluate and revise their own practice continuously.
 Reflective teaching implies an active concern with aims and consequences, as well
as means and technical efficiency.
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 Reflective teaching is based on teacher judgment, informed by evidence-based
enquiry and insights from other research.
 Reflective teaching, professional learning and personal fulfilment are enhanced
through collaboration and dialogue with colleagues.
I specifically chose these four because they tally with my practice.
I consider
reflection as a process, very similar or in relation to experiential learning philosophy
(Kolb, 1985); very much in Dewey’s spirit, reflection is bound by a sense of
responsibility, ownership and an awareness of consequences with deep impact on
people’s lives – no one can reflect for oneself; responsibility brings with it an
informed appraisal of possibilities and a careful selection of a course of action, better
still if informed by theory and research; and finally apart from the fact that “reflective
practice occurs within a social context” (Day 1993: 84).
I tend to lean towards a dialogical conception of reflection, which is enhanced when
done in collaboration with others, in what Jürgen Habermas (1979; 1984) calls ‘an
ideal speech situation’ which “can be understood as the projection of the conditions
for a perfect discussion” (Edgar, 2006: 65). The participators sort of adhere to a tacit
‘contract,’ by which each individual: is acknowledged equal rights to use speech acts
in a dialogue; is permitted to bring to the discussion any argument s/he deems right as
a claim, counterclaim, queries recommendations, answers and explanations; is
allowed to question any assertion made by other members; there is ‘free’ speech
throughout, so that everybody can express his desires, attitudes, and needs; and
finally, so long as the participants are honest to each other, they are not to be
prevented by internal or external coercion from exercising their rights to participate
freely. Such an ideal situation would be very desirable among practitioners who want
to improve their practice through collaborative reflection.
4.4
Why and how to reflect?
Student-teachers and teachers alike ideally might find ways to constantly monitor
their own practice, which is one means towards achieving constant renewal and
embark on the road of professional development. “The process of reflective teaching
supports the development and maintenance of professional expertise” (Pollard, 2002:
5). George Posner (2005: 21) summarised a lengthy and complicated argument thus:
83
“Experience + Reflection = Growth.” That is why choices that student-teachers and
teachers have to make are closely related to the kind of teacher they want to become
(Grant and Zeichner, 1984: 1). No one can deny that “becoming a reflective teacher
is a continual process of growth” (Grant and Zeichner, 1984: 13)… a never ending
process of ‘becoming’ (vide Intermezzo II). Reflection might be considered as a
break from the hustle-and-bustle of everyday classroom and school life. Within a
nursing background, but still relevant to teaching, reflective practice is considered as
“the tool or instrument to promote the process of continuous development”
(Gustafsson and Faberberg, 2004: 272), and “offers a powerful milieu for enabling the
practitioner’s empowerment and development” (Gustafsson and Faberberg, 2004:
279).
Student-teachers that are trained within a reflective paradigm, or inquiry-
oriented approach, have “the propensity to improve, not just endure” (Cruickshank,
1987: 2) the hardships of initial teaching practice. In encouraging reflection in initial
teacher education, as early as possible, student-teachers become “thoughtful and
wiser” (Cruickshank, 1987: 3).
Another important characteristic of effective
reflective practice is that it broadens one’s perspective on a problem:
Reflection is effective when it leads the teacher to make meaning from
the situation in ways that enhance understanding so that she or he
comes to see and understand the practice setting from a variety of
viewpoints.
(Loughran, 2002: 36)
Various pedagogues have identified techniques and methods to facilitate reflection.
Since most of reflection’s processes are hidden to the eye – at times, concealed even
to the I-eye – these methods and techniques are aimed at capturing those hidden
fleeting moments of reflection, and possibly structure the thought processes that bring
them to life in those that feel at a loss in front of a blank page or in a group
discussion. Jennifer Moon (1999a: 171) stresses the fact that “if reflection is to be
guided, the structure of a task provides the best guide for reflection” and
consequently, “different types of reflective exercise[s] will generate different types of
reflection.” Moon (1999a: 171) goes on to suggest that while initially students might
need a lot of guidance, later on as they get the hang of it, presumably they would
require less assistance and structure. In Table 4.1 I summarised the most popular
methods and techniques supported by the relevant research.
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Table 4.1: A synthesis of methods and techniques used in reflective practice
Method or Technique
Critical Incidents
Life History Approach
Reflective Journal
Personal Philosophy
Analysing Metaphors
Analysing
Photographs
Analysing Videos
Reflective Tasks
Reflective Dialogue
Guided Fantasies
Stories or Case-study
Analysis
Creative Writing
Description/Comment
Writing and/or analysing “critical incidents” (Tripp, 1993) or “working back
through memories, from the private to social” (Mitchell and Weber, 1999: 4673).
Using a life history approach, documenting one’s past and reflecting on the
impact this has on one’s current beliefs, prejudices, preferences and the like
(Knowles, 1993), what is generally called ‘autoethnography’ (Etherington,
2004: 137-158).
Keeping a reflective journal or filling a learning log (Holly, 1989; Fulwiler,
1987; Moon, 1999b). This is particularly indicated when one wants to
document a period of time rather than just an instance or event; the sequential
nature of the whole end product will then be used in finding patterns,
continuities, tensions, and the sort, in what would later be another moment of
reflection.
Writing a personal philosophy about teaching and learning, “starting with
your teaching experience, why you became a teacher and what you like about
being a teacher. … present your aims and goals as a teacher and your
philosophy of teaching and learning. … your preferred style of teaching, what
you value most in teaching, how you look at the learners and what you would
like to accomplish a the end of each day” (Chetcuti et al., n.d.: 1.2).
Using metaphors (Korthagen, 1993: 321-322; Taggart and Wilson, 1998: 200201).
Selecting and commenting on photographs (vide Mitchell and Weber, 1999:
74-123), drawings, paintings or pictures (vide Korthagen, 1993: 322-324).
Once an image is identified, a set of questions (Mitchell and Weber, 1999:
84) can prompt reflection by indicating aspects to focus on.
Turing the video camera on ourselves or on others, can later on, upon
viewing, and possibly during a frank discussion with peers, lead to reflection
(Mitchell and Weber, 1999: 189-217).
Working out “tasks” (Moon, 1999a: 175-176), “action strategies” (Taggart
and Wilson, 1998), “self-questioning protocols” (Posner, 2005) or “guided
individual reflection protocol” (Hole and Hall McEntee, 2003).
Participating in “reflective conversations” (Ghaye and Ghaye, 1998: 19-24),
“seminar group discussions” (Loughran, 1996: 7-8) or simply ‘discussions’
(Brookfield and Preskill, 2005). These conversations or discussions can be
defined as “practitioners creating understanding by exchanging information,
opinions, or experiences while working towards a common goal” (Taggart
and Wilson, 1998: 10).
Letting oneself go in what are called ‘guided fantasies’ (Korthagen 1993:
323-324).
Using and sharing stories as a springboard for thoughts (Burchell and Dyson,
2000). Rather than analysing similarities across stories or general themes,
instead focusing on and “values the messiness, depth and texture of
experienced life” (Etherington, 2004: 213). Recently there has been a
burgeoning interest in the use of case-study in teacher training (vide Shulman,
1986; Shulman, 1992).
Immersing into creative writing, like poetry or drama, can act as a
springboard for reflection… “As we reach inside to find words and form, we
begin to express our thoughts and feelings through language, rhythm,
metaphor, sound, imagery, that invite us to use both hemispheres of the brain
(Etherington, 2004: 152).
These and other techniques or methods serve to prompt reflective thought. Using
these techniques or methods, one might reach different levels of reflection.
85
4.5
Levels of reflection
One interesting off-shoot from the research on reflection deals with the levels of
reflection that student-teachers and teachers can aspire to. The following are just a
few examples of studies on the levels of reflection that, for various reasons usually
summarised at the end of each description, inspired my practice during the design and
research phases.
One very influential article on reflection is that by van Manen, who way back in 1991
identified three types or levels of reflection:
 anticipatory reflection when teachers think in advance about their actions and their
consequences;
 active or interactive reflection allows teachers to decide there and then as the events
unfold; and thirdly,
 recollective reflection, that kind of reflection that tries to make sense of past
experiences and assign deeper meanings to them.
van Manen’s three levels of reflections are based on the conceptualisation of time as
past-present-future (in a 1995 article van Manen labels them as ‘retrospective,’
‘contemporaneous’ and ‘anticipatory’ reflection) progression or “time frames”
(Hatton and Smith, 1995: 34), caught in a spiral act of thinking about the three phases
and finding interlocking links between them. I find van Manen’s scheme interesting
since it finds resonance with Schön’s ideas about reflection. Furthermore, I think
these three kinds of reflection are easily identifiable in practice, since in normal day
events, one naturally practices this kind of reflection without great effort.
John Bain, Roy Ballantyne, Colleen Mills and Nita Lester (2002: 14) developed the
5Rs framework, first devised to assess student-teachers’ journal writing (Table 4.2).
Later on, the same framework was also used to help student-teachers understand what
serious reflection entails, and to help them self-assess their journal writing. The 5Rs
framework or scale consists of five major levels or components of reflection on an
event that might be either an issue, an incident or a situation.
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Table 4.2: Bain, Ballantyne, Mills and Lester’s 5Rs framework
Level
I. Reporting
II. Responding
III. Relating
IV. Reasoning
V. Reconstructing
Description
When student-teachers describe or report an event.
When in their reflective writing student-teachers give an emotional or personal
response to an issue, when they let loose their emotional side.
Finding commonalities between theoretical insights and the incident under
investigation; connections can be made to personal past experiences.
A tentative exploration or explanation of an event, emphasising the details and
how these impinge on the understanding of the event.
Based on the reasoned understanding of an event, consisting of framing and
reframing of the circumstance, the student-teacher conceptualises a possible
conclusion and drafts an action plan to guide future performance.
Each major component is further subdivided into three or four levels (Bain,
Ballantyne, Mills and Lester, 2002: 15-16). It is interesting how the authors used the
scheme and provide detailed examples from student-teachers’ journals to illustrate
each point and level. On a more practical side, the researchers found that: most
writings were descriptive in nature; student-teachers need assistance to develop their
reflective writings skills; self-assessment of ones’ writing heightens the awareness of
the quality of writing even if no guidance is given; and that feedback from a trained
and committed tutor improves the level of writing and greatly influences the way
student-teachers conceptualise reflective writing in their professional development.
These findings truly opened my eyes to avoid common mistakes and at the same time
prime my practice in order to be more research-based.
Another major study, that by Patricia King and Karen Kitchener (1994: 1-13), situates
reflective judgement within critical thinking, demonstrating rather convincingly that
reflection has been “a neglected facet of thinking.” Spread between childhood and
adulthood, their model of Reflective Judgments is divided into eight stages, grouped
under three steps: Pre-reflective thinking, Quasi-reflective thinking, and finally,
Reflective thinking. What distinguishes the three stages is the idea the individual
holds of knowledge and the kind of justification brought forward to defend one’s
position. These set of assumptions “develop sequentially,” with subsequent stages
developing on earlier stages, “which suggests a pattern in the emergence of cognitive
structures” (King and Kitchener, 1994: 42). The very basic kind of assumption about
knowledge is that it is concrete and observable. When one’s idea of knowledge
becomes more ambiguous, since the person becomes aware the knowledge is rather
idiosyncratic and dependent on situations and context, takes it a step further up. The
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last stage of reflective judgment is attained when knowledge “is the outcome of a
process of reasonable inquiry in which solutions to ill-structured problems are
constructed (King and Kitchener, 1994: 15). Reading information about this model,
one is immediately struck by strong “developmental progression” (King and
Kitchener, 1994: 17). While the researchers bring forward a rather strong argument
on the importance of stages of development and I find their schematisation neat and
logical, I cannot but wonder how one really progresses through the stages. Is it the
individual that makes the leaps from one stage to the other, or is it the environment,
context or situations (sequence of events) that initiates the whole process? They
identify a ‘solution’ to this problem by hypothesising that there is an optimal level and
a lesser functional level gaining access to a stage, that is marked by a period of strong
sustained growth called a spurt, and then a plateau that is required for acquiring a new
skill or the application of the learned skill to other situations. Indeed, these new skills
“are constructed through a sequence of micro-development steps between levels”
(King and Kitchener, 1994: 35). I find a second criticism to the whole scheme, that is,
it values one kind of knowledge, abstract knowledge; the rest is either assigned a
lesser importance, or not considered at all “…true reflective thinking presupposes that
individuals hold the epistemic assumptions that allow them to understand and accept
real uncertainty” (King and Kitchener, 1994: 17). In this sense, Howard Gardner’s
(1983; 1993) studies on multiple-intelligences and David Goleman’s (1995) studies
that homes in emotional intelligence, are indeed an eye opener for everyone interested
on reflection as a way of thinking about the World in several ways without being too
rigid in or dogmatic about one position or stage.
4.5.1 The object of my reflection
Another way of theorising about reflection is by focusing on the object of reflection.
A model that is “cyclical, flexible, focused and holistic” is that proposed by Anthony
Ghaye and Kay Ghaye (1998: 6-11). The four foci of their model are: reflection on
context; reflection on values; reflection on improvement; and reflection on practice.
Furthermore, one can have different kinds of reflection on practice, ranging from
descriptive reflection up to critical reflection, passing by perceptive, receptive and
interactive reflection (Ghaye and Ghaye, 1998: 24). To achieve a deep kind of
reflection, Ghaye and Ghaye (1998: 19-24) propose “a reflective conversation” that
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embodies some of the following characteristics: focuses on values; its trajectory is
from the private to the communal and public; is based on a question and answer
format; is forward looking; and finally, has the possibility of providing insight and at
the same time empowering teachers when they question their experiences. Reflective
conversations have an added value over and above other kinds of conversations when
they draw attention to what might be in terms of valued outcomes, critically challenge
the teaching and learning process as is, and consequently provide a strong argument in
favour of change based on principled and ethically-grounded improvement (Ghaye
and Ghaye, 1998: 122). These reflective conversations tally with “seminar group
discussions” proposed by, for example, John Loughran (1996: 7-8). I like this model
since it is very schematised, avoids dualisms, and maps down the territory that might
be involved in reflection-on-practice. The constructivist idea of reflection as part of a
community of practitioners that share practically the same core principles and values
towards an improvement of practice, attracts my attention. Reader-response theorists
value discussion not only as a pedagogical tool albeit more or less structured and well
led by an informed teacher, but also a philosophy of practice. In dialogue one finds
an existential modus that is a more matured and developed response (practice) is
attained that could never be achieved all alone. The solitary figure of a reflective
critic is demystified and set aside for a more progressive discourse of social inquiry of
prospective critical readers of a democratic society where no one should be left
behind.
4.5.2
Critical reflection
One dimension of reflection that seems to surface a lot in the literature on reflection is
the question of criticality of the whole endeavour. Critical reflection, “the highest
level of reflection” (Yost, Sentner and Forlenza-Bailey, 2000: 41), has gained
momentum, especially after the publication of Wilfred Carr and Stephen Kemmis’
Becoming Critical (1986), and Stephen Brookfield’s Becoming a Critically Reflective
Teacher (1995). Both books hold the position that the starting point for critical
reflection is teachers’ knowledge, that is later scrutinised in the light of historical,
intellectual and social context. This reflective process can be taught and learnt,
especially if a number of suitable and generative techniques are employed. The
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following is another definition of reflection I was particularly drawn to for its clarity
and simplicity:
…reflective teaching is peeling back the layers of our daily work,
looking under the surface of our teaching, making a conscious attempt
to see our teaching selves as students see us, or as an observer in our
classrooms would. It also means looking at the wider contexts that
affect our teaching – issues of social justice, of school structure, of
leadership.
(Check and Hall McEntee, 2003: xiii)
For me, the most straightforward and lucid model is that by Hesook Kim (1999) who
identified three distinct phases: the descriptive phase; the reflective phase; and finally
the critical/emancipatory phase. Above all, “[c]ritical reflection holds out the promise
of emancipatory learning, learning that frees adults from implicit assumptions
constraining thought and action in the everyday world” (Stein, 2000: 2). Within a
transformative learning environment, reflection carries with it a particular function:
“reassessing the presuppositions on which our beliefs are based and acting on insights
derived from transformed meaning perspective that results from such reassessments”
(Mezirow, 1990a: 18). Critical reflection gains a deeper meaning when ethical and
moral dimensions are related to it as major attributes (van Manen, 1977; Liston and
Zeichner, 1987).
4.6
On the road of reflection
For my own conception of reflection I picked on and adapted Christopher Day’s
(1993: 84; my emphasis) insight: “reflective practice is seen to exist along a
continuum or ‘reflective spectrum’”. In praise of ‘dichotomies,’ Lee Shulman (1988:
33) notices “virtue on both sides of the divide, and that there was a deep set of
principles through which the dichotomy could be resolved.” I cannot but sympathise
with and make my own Vicki Kubler LaBoskey’s (1998: 43) powerful criticism
against dichotomies:
Dichotomous thinking is not only a waste of precious time, it is highly
detrimental. It often pits one important goal against another, making it
less likely we will achieve either because it divides our resources ….
Lastly, it detracts us from the real issues and promotes a futile search
for one right answer.
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This same solution was proposed by Louise Rosenblatt (1978/1995) when she
immediately resorted to the ingenious idea of the spectrum or continuum (rather than
bi-polar opposites) when she discusses aesthetic and efferent reading (vide Chapter 3).
If one were to pursue dichotomous thinking, one should be aware of Shulman’s
(1988: 37) admonition: “Either-or thinking may be rhetorically effective, but in
practice it is limiting and provincial.”
4.6.1
Reflection in a Maltese context: A home-grown metaphor
In Malta, one rite of passage at the age of 18 to 20 is getting past the driving licence
test. It doesn’t matter if one owns a car or not, the licence per se has a liberating aura
to it. During the study-unit ‘The Literary Experience in the Secondary School’ I had
to find a way to explain defining characteristics of reflective writing to my studentteachers. I don’t remember when or how it happened but I resorted to driving ala
Maltija as the guiding metaphor. It is worthwhile knowing that a myth that still
persists about the Maltese is that when it comes to driving officially they should stick
to the left (one of the very few countries in the world with this peculiarity, remnant of
the time Malta was a British Colony), and not on the right (like what other
neighbouring European countries do). However, generally speaking, Maltese tend to
prefer to drive either in the middle, or more cynically, where they find the shade!
Therefore, when I presented the student-teachers with the ‘Road of Reflection,’ they
immediately got the idea or sense of what I was trying to convey. One can easily
compare reflective writing to driving on a Maltese road, especially when a driver is
still green and zigzags along the way, until s/he learns to steer on the proper side of
the road. Likewise, when learning to write reflectively – preferably tending towards
critical reflection rather than descriptive writing – there is a more desirable and
effective way of directing oneself. Furthermore, Table 4.3 was used as a tool for selfreflection when student-teachers had to evaluate their quality of reflective writing and
deciding the way forward.
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Table 4.3: On the road to reflection…
Narrative-descriptive writing
Critical-reflective writing
1. A writing that hints at different incidents and
A. A critical incident selected among others
situations without ever focusing in, expands
for its reflective potential.
or elaborates on one.
B. A critical incident narrated in enough
2. A by and large detailed recollection of an
detail whilst being concise, in order that
incident as it evolved, without however
the reader can reach his/her own
helping the reader arrive at a conclusion
conclusions.
about the matter.
C. A writing with a particular voice.
3. The writer’s responsibility in the incident is
D. A detailed analysis of the context that the
not clear and/or not evaluated.
incident or experience evolved in, so as to
4. All that happened is accepted as if it were
identify those factors that give it birth and
destiny, without any will to challenge this
impinge on it.
defeated mentality.
E. A writing with clear evidence of an open
mind ready to entertain multiple
5. There is little if no evidence that this
interpretations of and different
incident be interpreted against a theoretical
perspectives on the incident.
backdrop; evidencing a belief in the
dichotomy between theory and practice. In
F. Relates lived experience to theoretical
most cases theory is considered irrelevant or
framework explored at university; writing
even not considered at all in the writing.
refers to seminal studies and theories on
the subject and on education in general.
6. A blind faith in routines. Little if no
curiosity in understanding how and why
G. Poses a number of questions so that the
things happen.
incident is understood in all its
ramifications.
7. An absolute and monolithic writing
interpretation of an incident; there is no
H. The lived experience inspires a series of
analysis of different possibilities: “I know
targets for further development.
exactly why things happened… let me tell
I. The writing contains possible routes
you…”
towards those desired aims/goals.
J. The writing contains ethical and moral
ramifications inspired by the incident or
situation.
K. The different actors/players in the incident
or situation are considered responsible
and free agents of their own
consciousness.
L. One can learn from experience.
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4.6.2
Research backing the road to reflection
Table 4.3 is based on research that tries to typify reflection, normally in levels or
stages. The following are just four examples presented chronologically:
 van Manen’s (1977) three levels of reflection: technical reflection, practical
reflection and critical reflection;
 Day’s (1993) three hierarchal levels of reflection: actions and behaviour, theories
and beliefs, ethics and morals;
 Hatton and Smith’s (1995) four levels of reflective writing: descriptive writing,
descriptive reflection, dialogic reflection and critical reflection; and
 Bain, Ballantyne, Mills and Lester’s (2002) 5Rs framework for the five major
levels of reflection: reporting, responding, relating, reasoning and reconstructing.
Jennifer Moon (2004: 96), reviewing a number of these studies, concludes that:
“Generally this material seems to be consistent, attributing similar qualities to the
deeper levels of reflection and generally viewing superficial reflection as descriptive.”
While I am aware that some models (eg. Sparks-Langer, Simmons, Pasch, Colton, and
Starko, 1990: 27) consider ‘no descriptive language’ as the most basic level that can
be attained, however following different models (mainly, Hatton and Smith, 1995), I
choose to call the first column that encapsulates the lowest level of reflection:
‘narrative-descriptive writing.’ On the other hand, the second column gathers under
one heading the most inspiring characteristics drawn from the literature that
promulgates deep reflective writing: ‘critical-reflective writing.’ These are just a few
examples: critical incidents (Tripp, 1993); voice (Graves, 1983: 227-228);
openmindeness (Dewey, 1933); research-based action and interpretation of event
(Pollard, 2005); steps back and poses questions (Hayes, Nikolic and Cabaj, 2001);
considers multiple points of view (Hatton and Smith, 1995); identifies goals/targets
for further development in self-directed learning or autonomous learning model
(Merriam, Caffarella and Baumgartner, 2006); assigns a moral and ethical dimension
to reflection (Day, 1993; Liston and Zeichner, 1987; Sparks-Langer, Simmons, Pasch,
Colton, and Starko, 1990: 27); awareness, consciousness and mindfulness
(McLaughlin, 1997; Suzuki, 1970); responsibility of one’s actions (Dewey, 1933) and
learning from experience (Kolb, 1985).
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4.7
Some problems with reflective practice
Although reflection has been hailed as a very positive movement in education during
the last two or three decades, this has not been without some detractors and a fair
share of criticisms.
Two difficult questions related to effective reflective practice are ‘what is reflective
practice?’ and ‘can it be taught?’ Related, then, are a number of other ensuing
questions: ‘if no, why bother so much about it?’ ‘if yes, how best can it be taught?’
‘what methods best suit student-teachers’ to be inducted into this skill?’ ‘is reflective
practice simply a writing skill or a rhetorical devise to achieve empathy and possibly
conviction in a receptive or gullible audience?’ ‘is reflective practice an art, a science,
or both?’ ‘does it really matter if it is an art or a science?’ ‘what background
knowledge and dispositions best aid the development or reflective practice?’ ‘when it
is best to be taught reflective teaching?’ ‘is it best taught individually or as a group?’
and lastly, a dilemma suggested by Day (1993: 83) ‘how does reflection lead to
change? One thing seems to be clear, encouraging student-teacher to reflect by
simply telling them to do so, is not an effective way of achieving that end (Loughran,
2002: 33). However, these difficult questions are nearly all unanswered, or at best
only tentative answers seem to emerge from the literature. Indeed, a more thorough
understanding of the complex nature of reflection is desirable, especially in
programmes that capitalise on this notion for their raison d’être. Otherwise teacher
education programmes that promote reflection as one of their core values “are
vulnerable to criticisms about credibility” (Sumsion and Fleet, 1996: 129).
One might list a whole list of barriers to reflection residing either internally to the
learner or externally to him/her (Boud and Walker, 1993). Unexamined beliefs,
prejudices about the learner, and one’s personal emotional state, are examples of
internal barriers. Examples of external barriers are the school environment, cultural
expectations, colleagues, and social life of the individual. To the above list, Ardra
Cole (1997: 15-21) adds: anxiety, fear, a sense of helplessness and loneliness, and
contextual hostility. These and other barriers to reflection should not be considered as
insurmountable stumbling blocks in the journey to becoming a more effective
reflective practitioner.
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Although reflective practice proponents seem to be inspired by John Dewey’s
conception of reflection, as elaborated and popularised by Schön, many still believe
that as a concept it is still very ‘vague and ambiguous’ (Zeichner and Liston, 1996: 7)
making it difficult to make accurate sense of what it actually entails. Another bone of
contention is the moment when one can claim that reflection differentiates itself from
simply thinking about something, what Barry Bright (1995: 69) identified as “a
problem of recognition.” How can one differentiate between an action inspired by
reflection and another that is simply non-reflective? One way to go about it is by
considering all teachers’ actions as based on some form of reflection but then they
diverge on cases of efficient and inefficient reflection (Bright, 1995: 70).
One difficult problem with reflection is finding time to reflect (Hatton and Smith,
1995: 37). Student-teachers are learning the first moves, and therefore it stands to
reason that they “are hard pressed for time, interested in practical outcomes, and seek
out tried and tested strategies as a first port of call, rather then trying to re-invent the
wheel” (Cordingley, 1999: 183).
Both as a lecturer and researcher I lived this
problem, and I had several dialogues with my student-teachers about the time factor
(vide Chapter 10).
A lack of a ‘value scheme,’ for want of a better word, or “a suitable knowledge base”
(Hatton and Smith, 1995: 37) to contrast with experience, is another difficulty
frequently encountered by prospective teachers in their training phase. Some might
even dismiss reflective practice by student-teachers thinking that they do not have the
necessary experiences to be able to reflect. However, this criticism was tackled
forcefully and convincingly by John Smyth (1989: 7) when he argues that reflection
should not be the privilege of the experienced teacher because that would often mean
“to deny a long and sometimes harsh history of being treated in certain ways as
students… These histories are most decidedly worth unpacking in some considerable
detail for the more just and humane alternatives they will reveal.” Student-teachers
may have a rather idealised image of teaching, and since reality is more fragmentary
and complicated, they immediately retract to their small comfort-zones if they are not
led to reflect in a structured and appropriate manner, possibly using some of the
techniques suggested above.
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Some might question whether reflection is a solitary or a community endeavour. For
example, subject meetings within schools or colleges, can serve as a safe place where
practitioners bring their experience and generate knowledge together.
However,
Schön’s (1983; 1987) idea of reflection seems to present a model that is based on the
individual rather than also on the community. If one draws parallels with reading and
response within a literature classroom setting, students can respond individually, and
there is nothing wrong with that, but when they participate in group or classroom
discussions, then the quality of response to a text is greatly enhanced. The same
might apply to reflection-on-action by teachers. I share the same strong belief of
Zeichner and Liston’s (1996: 77) that “good reflective teaching is both democratic
and self-critical.”
Greater awareness of barriers of reflection may lead one to think of ways to overcome
these hindrances. With prospective teachers, one should be careful how to tackle
reflectively the first experiences. David Leat (1995) has identified stress, self-doubt,
and loss of self-esteem as the three main drawbacks when student-teachers are
examining their own practice, and identified a dire need for emotional support in
examining their practice.
Rita Newton (1997: 146) identified three remedies or
possible solutions, to overcoming barriers to reflection: by oneself; with the help of a
group (maybe with the help of ‘critical friends’ (Smyth, 1989) – what I reckon to be a
gross misnomer); and/or with the help of a facilitator. Like in a twelve-step
programme, one must start by admitting that there is a difficulty, and try to clarify the
boundaries of this constraint. Sharing experiences within a supportive and likeminded people may reinvigorate one’s desire to achieve more and excel. Groups may
have the tendency to create an atmosphere of trust and challenge. An informed
person may give guidance to the perplexed and help the person feeling lost to set
realistic and achievable targets. I remember the Yiddish story of a man in a deep hole
crying for help, and the passers by simply ignored him or presented him with a long
list of advice, that seemed irrelevant to him at that time, until a man jumped in the
same hole; and when he asked why, the answer was ‘because I’ve been here once,
help will arrive soon, stay calm… I’m here with you…’
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To evaluate or not reflective writing or practices is another problem or dilemma that
people working with this framework have to face, and try their best to resolve within
their particular context. From the literature I surveyed, there are very few instances
when reflective writing is assessed. One lone proponent of such a state of affairs, to
who’s perspective I do not subscribe, is Cruickshank (1987: 37) who concludes that
“performance in reflective teaching can be evaluated for grades if that is desirable.”
However, further studies have amply demonstrated that the opposite seems to be the
case:
At present, there are substantial difficulties involved in attempting to
identify and assess reflection. Given current methodological and
pragmatic limitations, the assessment of reflection raises complex
issues of consistency and equity as well as broader pedagogical and
ethical concerns.
(Sumsion and Fleet, 1996: 128)
One solution to this rather insurmountable problem is the adoption of alternative
methodologies, such as formative assessment and their most famous emblem
portfolios, as will be tackled in the following chapter.
4.8
Two images of reflection
If I had to choose two images that embody what I believe is reflection, I would pick
two very contrasting ones. Auguste Rodin’s ‘The Thinker’ is an iconic image of
someone absorbed in one’s thoughts or lost in deep self-analysis, and possibly highly
sophisticated navel-gazing. The man embodies an idea of thinking or reflection as a
‘solitary’ endeavour. Most probably, very few would know that originally the same
sculpture was named ‘The Poet’ representing Dante at the doorstep of hell in La
Divina Commedia. Had Rodin kept the original name, then thinking would be a
momentous solitary activity, in wait of a guide, in Dante’s case a Virgil of all
importance.
Thus, maybe, the same statue would hint that another person,
teacher/mentor is round the corner to alleviate the weight of self-reflection. From an
image of near despair, since it is just a transitory phase, it would be transformed into
an image of hope.
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The second image that comes to my mind if I had to choose an iconic piece
symbolising reflection or better still meditation; for sure I would travel far away, in
search of a person lost in zazen (literally meaning ‘seated meditation’), the seated
posture Zen Buddhist practitioners painstakingly exercise throughout their entire life
to calm their body and mind to achieve or experience satori, enlightenment, “the point
where, released from the grip of worldly passions and at one with the universe, the
life is illuminated” (Verity, 1996: 29). Like reflection, meditation is taught through
techniques, amongst which: concentration with special emphasis on breathing “until
the mind is concentrated” (Lowenstein, 2006: 88); koan introspection (a riddle, a
seemingly illogical story or statement that is understood only by direct introspection);
or just sitting and be aware of one’s environment. One classic Zen story (in Baldock,
1994: 15) related to zazen states:
A monk asked a Zen Master, ‘What does one think of while sitting?’
‘One thinks of not-thinking,’ the Master replied.
‘How does one think of not-thinking?’ the monk asked.
‘Without thinking,’ said the Master.
Reflection and meditation as conceived in this way is completely different from
Western high emphasis on rationality. Instead, Eastern philosophy can be conceived
as an endless search towards “deep interiority” and “becoming one with nature”
(Masciotra, Roth and Morel, 2007: 107-126; 127-150). Indeed, when in circa 1689
the most famous Japanese haiku master, Bashō, set along his journey on the Narrow
Road to the Interior – which “much, much more than a poetic travel journal” (Hamill,
1999: x) – he was not only walking around Japan but also performing a journey inside
his own consciousness. Trying to act in the present means that experience is savoured
to the full, taking deep pleasure in doing what has to be done. “Consciousness
manifests itself in and through action, or better still, it embraces action to constitute
unity with it” (Masciotra, Roth and Morel, 2007: 112). Finally, the aim is not a
person in search of relationality that “expresses situated and situating knowing-inaction and thinking-in-action, while reflectivity reveals its best out of direct action”
(Masciotra, Roth and Morel, 2007: 210-211). “Relationality refers to practitioners as
they develop as Self-in-their-professional world. ...is part of and develops in praxis”
(Masciotra, Roth and Morel, 2007: 211). What a completely different frame of mind;
not a heavy burden of thought but an aspiration for lightness. Serenity emanates from
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the face of the person in zazen posture… what a contrasting difference to Rodin’s
sculpture and reflection as conceived nearly throughout the whole chapter.
Somewhere between these two conceptions of reflection, I find my own
interpretation, “embracing contraries” (Elbow, 1986) at times. Reflection leads to
thoughtful action, to self-awareness, to transformation, to peace of mind, to
enlightenment…
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CHAPTER 5
Assessment: The issues and three emblems
5.1
Introduction
Examinations have a long history (Black, 1998: 7-8; Foucault, 1979: 184-194) and
their status seems to be unchallenged… until recently!
5.2
The examination culture
Examinations have been promoted in the name of reliability and validity, even if a
number of aspects, such as errors in marking and variability of pupils’ effort on a
particular day might, theoretically, threaten them (Black, 1998: 37-57). However,
while contentious to some, tests and examinations have served, and still are serving, a
number of purposes, as summarised in Table 5.1:
Table 5.1: Some purposes of examinations
 Guiding teachers in ability grouping within their class.
 Facilitating and, to a certain degree, ‘objectifying’ the school administrators’ task of progressing
students from one class or level to another; in Michel Foucault’s (1979: 184) words, examinations
make “it possible to qualify, to classify and to punish.”
 Identifying and measuring a school’s success rate.
 Determining the way one views knowledge and how subjects are structured and possibly taught.
 Providing and sustaining “the enormous bureaucratic structure” that everyone can see at work from
primary schools up to higher education institutions (Peim and Flint, 2009: 344); establishes a
visibility through which individuals are differentiated and judged (Foucault, 1979: 184).
 Helping employers to pick a particular candidate rather than another who has performed less
successful; Foucault (1979) indicates how examinations have become a principle of bio-power, for
instance they are inscribed in the governmental machinery of the capillary state.
Evaluation practices cannot be understood in a vacuum, but rather are a product of
historical development of educational systems and other social factors (Black, 1998:
7).
For example the “extraordinary success” of “English language examinations
would never have assumed such prominence had English not emerged as the World’s
second language during the course of the twentieth century” (Raban, 2008: 1).
Examinations generate a business and revenue quantifiable in millions. Examinations
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set by Cambridge University alone have over 8 million candidates a year, in over 150
countries (Raban, 2008: 1). Susan Raban (2008: 2, my emphasis) describes with great
enthusiasm the change in name in one internationally renowned examining body, as
being part of that revered tradition of building “on past achievements while belonging
quintessentially to the world of the future.” It is as if she is saying, examinations are
here to stay!
One cannot underestimate the importance of examination culture in Malta, either.
This is another remnant of Malta’s colonial past: “…one has to keep in mind that the
British examination system, with its emphasis on summative assessment, was taken
up lock, stock and barrel by the Maltese educational system and incorporated within
its foundations and structure” (Mifsud, 1991: 115). Indeed: “Examinations are rated
by a number of Maltese as their first priority, sometimes coming even before health”
(Anon, 2009: 90).
This is done to such an extent that in “Malta, even at our
University, the importance of examinations and the way they are conducted is perhaps
overrated. They are often considered to be the all of one’s being” (Anon, 2009: 90).
Since I lived within this examination culture, I am very much aware of the positive
and negative impact it had on a personal level and have witnessed its effects on
countless friends and acquaintances (vide Chapter 1).
5.2.1
Some criticisms to the examination culture
Summative assessment is not immune from criticisms.
Reviewing a number of
assessment practices across the European Union, Birenbaum et al. (2006: 2) identify
the negative effects summative assessment practices have on students and teachers.
Students fail because current assessment practices focus on assessment of learning
rather than assessment for learning; are limited in scope; drive teaching for
assessment rather than for learning; and ignore individual differences. Consequently,
traditional forms of assessment, discriminate between high- and low-achieving
students, and marginalise ‘failed’ students. Anxiety and low self-esteem are the
collateral damage of a summative assessment culture (vide Assessment Reform
Group, 2002b).
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Assessment is presented as objective and possibly more insidious than that:
“Assessment partakes of scientific absolutism of western metaphysics and is therefore
implicated in its necessarily delimited determination of the truth – the truth of the
student’s work, the truth of the student’s Being, the truth of the subject… ” (Peim and
Flint, 2009: 352).
Indeed, “[e]xams have an aura of science and promote
standardization, characteristics that have considerable appeal in our society” (Ricci
and Berger, 2005: 47). In fact, the widespread practice of examination “is not an
exact science, and we must stop presenting it as such” (Gipps, 1994: 167) and these
pseudo-objective characteristics “obstruct good teaching” (Ricci and Berger, 2005:
47).
Caroline Gipps and Patricia Murphy (1994) have demonstrated rather
convincingly that tests and examinations are not as ‘fair’ as one might initially think.
Gender, social class and ethnic differences impact on the performance and success
rate of any test (Gipps and Murphy, 1994).
On the other hand, teachers are also ‘failed’ by the current test- or examination-driven
assessment systems. These are just a few limitations based on Birenbaum et al.’s
(2006: 2) review: teachers are forced to teach for evaluation instead of developing
ways to support integration of subjects and topics across the curriculum – or, as Carlo
Ricci and Ellie Berger (2005: 45) in a motto fashion describe, as: “Teachers do not
teach students; they teach curricula”; streamlining teaching without proper care for
individual differences and regarding all learners as identical; drawing a big chunk of
teaching time exclusively for coaching for examinations; limiting the teacher’s
professional autonomy and development.
One cannot underestimate the negative effect examinations have on parents or care
givers either. The level of anxiety about their children’s performance is unlimited
especially in those cases where there is a heightened awareness of the repercussions
related to high-stake testing, such as streaming.
To sum up… the practice of teacher’s test and formal examinations encourages rote
learning and learning at a very superficial level, contributing significantly to ‘a
poverty of practice’ (Black and Wiliam, 1998: 5). As highlighted by Birenbaum et al.
(2006: 1-2): current assessment systems tend to be un-economical, inauthentic,
context independent, time consuming, inflexible, and demotivating for both learners
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and teachers. Therefore, the winds of change that are blowing, “are not innovations
for innovation’s sake, but changes designed to improve student learning after
traditional approaches to assessment have become problematic in some way given the
changed context” (Gibbs, 2006: 21).
5.2.2
Who is leading the attack on the examination culture?
Actually, a number of criticisms were put forward by those who subscribe to an
assessment culture that favour ‘authentic assessment’ (vide Torrance, 1995),
‘performance assessment’ (vide Broadfoot, 1995; Darling-Hammond, 1994), and
more recently, ‘assessment for learning’ (Black and Wiliam, 1998; Assessment
Reform Group, 2002a, 2002b). To this new terminology one might add ‘formative
assessment’ (vide Torrance and Pryor, 1998), ‘school-based assessment’ and
‘coursework assessment,’ that by and large refer to the same set of practices and
principles.
The counter-culture proposed by these pedagogues “is a culture of
success, backed by a belief that all can achieve” (Black and Wiliam, 1998: 9).
Caroline Gipps (1994: 1) aptly introduced Beyond Testing by hinging immediately on
the assessment-turn that was (and I believe, still is) taking place in educational
spheres and at all levels: “Assessment is undergoing a paradigm shift… from testing
and examination culture to an assessment culture.” Paradigm shifts occur when there
is a generalised dissatisfaction with the prevailing thought, and little by little a counter
argument evolves that meets the required exigencies and creates an interpretive
framework for the understanding of new events (Kuhn, 1970). Paul Black (1998: 4)
pointed out that while there is some “overlap” between the two, ‘testing’ carries with
it an aura of “being hard, rigorous, inflexible and narrow-minded” and ‘assessments’
as “being soft, sensitive, and broad- or woolly-minded.” While one might theorise
about the relationship between formative and summative assessment practices (for
example Harlen, 2006), I am of the opinion that it is too early in the paradigm shift to
find continuities or trace similarities, rather than stress the striking and not so evident
differences.
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5.3
Assessment for Learning
Paul Black and Dylan Wiliam (1998: 3), two of the strong proponents of assessment
for learning, rightly do not conclude that “in formative assessment, we have yet
another ‘magic bullet’ for education”, and I might add, at any level of education.
However, in the critique of the Assessment Reform Group (2002b) of traditional
forms of evaluations, and the principles (2002a), practices and research (Gardner,
2006) they have undertaken during the last few years, a new paradigm has been
gaining momentum among the community of educationalists.
Under the name of ‘Assessment for Learning’ an awareness is emerging of a way of
conceptualising assessment, that shifts attention towards “...the process of seeking and
interpreting evidence for use by learners and their teachers to decide where the
learners are in their learning, where they need to go and how best to get there”
(Assessment Reform Group, 2002a).
“By definition, the purpose of formative
assessment is to lead to further learning” (Stobart, 2006: 136), or as Royce Sadler
(1998: 77, my emphasis) put it, “assessment that is specifically intended to provide
feedback on performance to improve and accelerate learning.”
My personal
conviction to move away from evaluation towards a more formative kind of
assessment stems from the not so often acknowledged fact that “there is a relationship
between assessment and the way in which subject matter is presented in teaching: this
in turn affects – through the tasks in which pupils engage – what and how pupils
learn” (Gipps, 1994: 18). The paradigm shift from evaluation to assessment for
learning, rests on the following premise: “…instruction and formative assessment are
indivisible” (Black and Wiliam, 1998: 10).
Drawing on the research and findings of the Assessment Reform Group (2002a),
assessment for learning has been characterised by ten principles. Amongst these ten
principles I consider the following four as the most important for their clarity and at
the same time radical reorienting factors when it comes to thinking about my own
personal assessment beliefs and practices:
 Assessment for learning should focus on how students learn. Simple as this might
be, evaluation tends to forget that students’ learning is the important all embracing
feature. The idea of delivering a lecture lends itself rather easily to subsiding the
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 Assessment for learning should be regarded as a key professional skill for teachers.
Teachers are viewed as ‘technicians’ when they unreflectively construct and/or
administer tests and examinations. On the other hand, within an assessment for
learning framework, teachers are aware of the negative consequences of summative
assessment on motivation and self-esteem (vide Assessment Reform Group, 2002b)
and strive towards a re-interpretation of their role and their greater responsibilities
towards students (vide Assessment Reform Group, n.d.).
A wider, more
comprehensive picture is attained when tests and examinations are just part of the
evidence collected about a student’s performance and attainment.
 Assessment for learning should promote commitment to learning goals and a
shared understanding of the criteria by which they are assessed. When students are
actively involved in their assessment, when they share the same meaning with their
teachers about the criteria, then the assessment becomes more meaningful. The
development of criteria with my students was a necessary final step in divesting my
authority and democratically sharing it with my students (vide Chapter 11).
 Assessment for learning develops the learners’ capacity for self-assessment so that
they can become reflective and self-managing. The “link of formative assessment
to self-assessment is not an accident – it is indeed inevitable” (Black and Wiliam,
1998: 9). Meta-cognition is hailed as being a desirable feature of an assessment for
learning framework (Burke, 2005: 133-145). Students should be encouraged to
think about what and why they are doing, how they are learning, and furthermore,
self-assess their own progress. Gipps (1994: 4) makes this point clear: “If we wish
to foster higher order skills including application of knowledge, investigation,
analyzing, reasoning and interpretation for all our pupils, not just the élite, then we
need our assessment system to reflect that.” Related to this, the study-unit ‘The
Literary Experience in Secondary School,’ from the very start was infused with
reflective tasks and during the second year, even if against my better instincts, I
made the leap of faith in self- and peer-assessment (vide Chapter 11). In my
journey I always kept in mind the fact that: “Teachers taking on formative
assessment are giving their students a voice and in many cases acting so as to make
that voice louder” (Black, Harrison, Lee, Marshall and Wiliam, 2003: 98).
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I agree with David Boud (2006: xviii) that while the assessment sphere is in
continuous change, “it is not clear how it will settle down from the current flurry of
activity,” discussions, conferences, debates, and the like. Much attention is paid to
assessment, and new evaluation regimes are always trying to creep in and become part
of the status quo. However, formative assessment or assessment for learning are all
manifestations of the dissatisfaction with traditional forms of evaluation practices. I
choose to expand on three related concepts very much at the heart of assessment for
learning. Feedback, portfolios, and finally, rubrics and self-assessment. I picked
these three for the value they had in my research (vide Chapter 11).
5.4
Feedback
While feedback to students is acknowledged to be a crucial area, like many other
areas in education, it is “relatively under-researched” (Mutch, 2003: 24). Within the
classroom or lecture room, feedback “is a process which begins with a reaction to
aspects of the initial message as received by the student …. is essential to good
classroom communication; it exerts a measure of control over the activities of
teachers in their role as communicators” (Curzon, 1997: 144). This latter definition is
rather behaviouristic or mechanistic in nature, with a stimulus and a response, and
assigns great importance on the teacher as the person in control or “managerial
function” (Black and Wiliam, 1998: 6) of a supposedly caring profession. It tallies
very much with the Initiate-Response-Feedback (IRF) structure of primary, but not
exclusively, classroom interactions or discussions, where the teacher initiates an
interaction which, in turn, elicits a response by a student and is followed by a more or
less extensive feedback or comment by the teacher (Sinclair and Coulthard, 1975).
However, within a teaching literature context and within assessment for learning,
response and feedback may be more profound. Reader-response theories, especially
when they refer to the sharing of response with the community of the classroom,
require attentive listening by the teacher and other members.
Within my Faculty of Education, but certainly not exclusively, feedback is defined as
“the sharing of information upon a task assigned by the lecturer and completed by the
student-teacher” (Assessment Committee, 2006: 18). This definition provides a rather
descriptive, loose framework for feedback. Ramaprasad’s (1983: 4) cogent definition
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of feedback is widely used in educational contexts: “Feedback is the information
about the gap between the actual level and the reference level of a system parameter
which is used to alter the gap in some way.” This latter definition is an elaboration or
extension of Lev Vygotsky’s (1978) ‘zone of proximal development’. Feedback
brings to the fore and bestows with a reinvigorating meaning the whole
communicative act, emphasising the limit or ‘gap’ that needs to be overcome, as well,
within a formative assessment framework, an indication of the possible ways that can
help in successfully closing the gap (Wiliam and Black, 1996). Thus, within a
formative assessment framework, feedback if firmly grounded in the teaching and
learning process, where information is used to feed back the whole chain reaction or
process (Gipps, 1994: 129-136).
According to Caroline Gipps (1994: 129-130), feedback serves at least two purposes:
“it contributes directly to progress in learning through the process of formative
assessment, and indirectly through its effect on the pupil’s academic self-esteem.”
And as Black, Harrison, Lee, Marshall and Wiliam (2003: 122) stress: “Feedback can
only serve learning if it involves both the evoking of evidence and a response to that
evidence by using it in some way to improve the learning.”
I note the close relationship between feedback and one of Louise Rosenblatt’s
(1978/1994: 48-70) key terms in her reader-response approach to literature, evoking a
poem. In Rosenblatt’s theory, ‘evoking a poem’ comes into two stages, first during
reading and then after reading in a sort of recollection of the primary experience. The
second function of evoking a poem, a story or a play, leads naturally to a state where
“the reader-critic can respond to it, evaluate it, analyze it” (Rosenblatt, 1978/1994:
48). This does not mean that the critical response to a text happens after the reading
has taken place… that would oversimplify the complexity of the matters. Indeed the
critical response to a text happens during the reading act and after the first reading has
taken place. The student makes choices throughout the whole process, such as the
writer and reader make choices during their first reading.
Furthermore, the literary transaction “to some degree always embodies, an interplay
between at least two sets of codes, two set of values” those of the author and those of
the reader (Rosenblatt, 1978/1994: 56). Likewise, within the classroom setting, the
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feedback is a transaction between at least two codes or cultures, the teacher’s and the
student’s culture.
Therefore, it is important that open dialogue between the
teacher/lecturer and the students is in place, for growth to take place mediated through
transactions. Sharing the same meaning about criteria ensures that communication
can take place in a productive manner.
Furthermore, evocation and response transform into “a continuing flow of responses,
syntheses, readjustments, and assimilation” (Rosenblatt, 1978: 58), likewise it is
through feedback that accommodation and learning takes place.
5.4.1
Characteristics of effective feedback
Table 5.2 summarises some of the key characteristics of effective feedback.
Table 5.2: Characteristics of effective feedback
Quality
Based on multiple sources rather
than one single task.
Perceived by the student as being
authentic, supportive, relevant
and sensitive to one’s growth and
development.
It contains specific reference to
examples/parts from the work.
Couched within a nonthreatening judgmental language.
It is based on “detailed facts…
conceptual help or feedback on
strategies used” (Gipps, 1994:
130).
Is related to specific prior
knowledge of assessment criteria.
Comment
Different learning styles lend themselves better to different tasks
than others. Differentiated assessment sources are corollary of
differentiated learning.
One should keep in mind that “providing individual feedback is
more difficult to organise and manage – but at least is more likely
to have impact” (Lambert and Lines, 2000: 135). It is preferable
that feedback be given on an individual basis rather than given to
the whole class.
When feedback is focused on concrete examples extrapolated
from the work itself (Gipps, 1994: 130) it becomes more
meaningful to the recipient.
A certain kind of feedback that negatively impinges on students’
self-esteem ought to be avoided. Dweck (in Gipps, 1994: 132)
calls the damage of repetitive nature of this kind of feedback as
“learned helplessness.” Effective feedback should help build
one’s self-esteem. One way to go about it is by avoiding
unnecessary comparisons with other students (Black and Wiliam,
1998: 9). Caroline Gipps (1994: 41) is adamant: “Performance
feedback must also emphasise mastery and progress, rather than
normative comparison.”
Feedback is most effective when it is not focused on grades. It is
most effective when it is focused “on the particular qualities of the
work” (Lambert and Lines, 2000: 137) or it contains specific
references or to how the student’s work may be improved upon to
achieve better recognition of both effort and mastery of
competence in a specific field or domain.
Specific comments are preferable, rather than based upon
undisclosed generalised expectations. Feedback helps the student
enter into “the frame of reference of the teacher, to share the
model of learning which gives meaning to the criteria that are
reflected in assessment” (Black, 1998: 123).
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It is structured.
Given within an agreed-upon
time frame.
The students have the patience to
focus on the comments and
extrapolate learning targets from
them.
It is considered as an asset both
in the learning experience of the
students and also relevant to the
teaching experience.
Structured feedback may take the following format:
a) highlight the positive merits of a work, remembering Caroline
Gipps’ (1994: 39) reproach: “Praise should be used sparingly, and
should be task-specific.”
b) identify some negative aspects, keeping in mind that “criticism
is usually counter-productive” (Gipps, 1994: 39);
c) indicate how these may be improved upon or closing the gap
between the desired goal and present position (Black and Wiliam,
1998: 9-10; Gipps, 1994: 131); and finally
d) end with an encouraging comment.
Since students are held responsible to hand in their assignments on
a particular date, lectures are to be held accountable to do their
part within a reasonable announced period. This is strongly
backed up by research: “The longer the delay in the receipt of
feedback, the less the effect of feedback on performance” (Ilgen,
Peterson, Martin and Boeschen, 1981: 324).
Lecturers have frequently encountered the situation when after
investing their time in writing detailed feedback to each and every
student, they simply dismiss this by focusing exclusively on the
grade. Students should be encouraged not to focus exclusively on
the grade.
Data gathered during the feedback period is valuable for further
learning. Feedback should be an important evaluative and
reflective tool that modifies future teaching experiences. Effective
feedback enables the teacher to learn about his/her students and,
within an open dialogue, create ‘shared meaning’ (Lambert and
Lines 2000: 137). Feedback should provide information that can
be used to improve future teaching and learning experiences. In
other words, good feedback provides relevant information to both
students and teachers alike (Nicol and Macfarlane-Dick, 2006;
Nicol and Milligan, 2006).
5.4.2 The tricky business of feedback
From my experience, informal or formal feedback sessions are always a tricky
business. First there is the kind of power relationship between the giver of feedback
(tutor, lecturer, examiner) and the recipient of feedback (usually the student but, at
times, the lecturer receives feedback about his/her performance); the kind of
relationship determines how the feedback is given, received and most importantly of
all interpreted and acted upon. Then there are personal factors, such as the skill in
giving feedback to someone, and the personal belief in one’s role. Similarly, how
well trained is the receiver in receiving feedback, listening and learning from the
feedback, rather than being resistant or on the defensive.
The cultural context
impinges on the whole process, and infuses different roles and meanings to the
feedback act.
One barrier towards effective feedback frequently cited by some
Maltese student-teachers is the idea of mixed messages from different sources, let’s
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say two different examiners on teaching practice giving rather conflicting messages to
a student on a rather identical performance within the same school.
Feedback during teaching practice is considered as vital to identify students’
strengths, acknowledge their weaknesses and most importantly guide student-teachers
to find ways, means and energy to improve upon their practice. Within my Faculty of
Education, as part of the Regulations and Codes of Practice for Tutors (later on called
‘Examiners’) on teaching practice, clearly state that:
Tutors are expected to give verbal and possibly written feedback to
students straight after the lesson(s) observed.
Written feedback has to be passed on to students by not later than 5
days (where applicable) after their visit.
(Office of Professional Practice, 2002: 25)
It is evident that feedback is at the heart of formative assessment. Learning to
deliver/negotiate and receive feedback is an art that needs to be constantly learnt and
improved up. The teaching/learning experience is greatly enhanced if all participants
appreciate the importance feedback time has on the whole process and dynamic. The
portfolio is one particular aspect of formative assessment that necessitates constant
open dialogue including feedback for its success.
5.5
Portfolios
It is interesting to note how certain words and concepts find a common thread
connecting them to each other under one vision: “Teaching, learning, reflection, and
assessment are intimately related in the portfolio model…” (Barton and Collins, 1993:
200). If assessment for learning is an English movement which does not feature much
in United State’s educational policy (Wiliam, 2006: 169-183), the introduction of
portfolio knows its birth place in the United States with the National Writing Project
and Arts-PROPEL project (an initiative between Project Zero at Harvard and
Educational Testing Services) both emphasising in their own ways the ‘processing’
aspect of learning (Wiliam, 2006: 178; and for a review of portfolios in the United
States vide Zeichner and Wray, 2001). ‘Literacy portfolios’ can be considered as the
first examples of portfolio use across the United States (vide Valencia, 1998; Weiner
and Cohen, 1997).
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Certainly, portfolios in education are in their infancy, and “like most infants, the
possibilities of portfolios are limitless” (Graves, 1992: 12). For me, the link between
the two is quite obvious: If one had to choose a symbol for formative assessment, this
will certainly have to be, portfolios! Valerie Janesick (2001: 7) lists over a dozen of
authentic assessment techniques – some of which are, performances, demonstrations
writing essays, journal writing, formal observations, and role plays – portfolios are:
“the most recognised of authentic assessment techniques.” Portfolios are considered
an important assessment tool because “they manage to reflect the basic principles of
alternative models of assessment” (Chetcuti and Grima, 2001: 17) and may be seen as
“an authentic assessment – assessment that looks at performance and practical
application of theory” (Pitts, Coles and Thomas, 2001: 351). Very much in line with
evaluation and assessment culture, Dennie Wolf (1998: 41) augers the creation of a
“portfolio culture” meaning “developing a kind of learning environment of intense
expectations, care, and richness …a shift away from minimum competency
education.”
It is imperative to bear in mind that “a portfolio is a broad metaphor that comes alive
as you begin to formulate the theoretical orientation to teaching that is most valuable
to you” (Shulman, 1998: 23). Indeed, I find parallels with portfolio construction and
the methodological concepts of bricolage and bricoleur (vide Chapter 7). The person
constructing the portfolio has the flexibility and ingenuity of the bricoleur, while
his/her actions mimic those of bricolage, for they can be idiosyncratic, making
something useful from the artefacts at hand, and holding everything together by
reflecting on what s/he has done.
5.5.1 Defining portfolios in educational contexts
Portfolios have only recently featured in educational contexts.
A professional
portfolio might seem at a glance a collection of related or at times disparate
testimonials. Others contend that educational portfolios, when conceived to serve as a
cornerstone of assessment for learning, bring along a completely new way of thinking,
planning, implementing and assessing the learning experience. I tend to agree more
with the latter.
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In the Maltese education sector, portfolios are relatively new (Ministry of Education
[Malta], 1999: 78). It is used mostly in the tertiary sector, with a stronger tradition in
certain faculties than in others. In the Faculty of Education [Malta], this word has
been newly introduced and has not yet acquired a precise definition.
Simply stated, a portfolio means a collection of artefacts, or a container to carry
documents (LaBoskey, 2000: 593).
This follows the etymology of the word;
historically speaking ‘portfolio’ has a Latin origin and is made up of two words:
‘porta’ and ‘foglio’. ‘Porta’ is the imperative of the Latin verb ‘portare’, which means
‘to carry.’ ‘Foglio’ originates from another Latin word, ‘folium’ meaning ‘a sheet of
paper.’ Black’s (1994: 97) definition is quite straightforward too: “a portfolio is a
collection of pieces of work some of which will be, or have been, used for
performance assessment,” very much in line with (but not the same as) ‘Records of
Achievements’.
Apart from being a collection of artefacts, a portfolio may also include a “purpose/s”
(Barton and Collins, 1993: 200; Klenowski, 2002: 2, 10-25). Some of the aims that a
portfolio may endorse are: revealing one’s knowledge and showing one’s successes;
document different phases of development, and demonstrating the process of
reflection that one went through while collating, selecting and justifying the different
artefact.
As stated by Black (1994: 97), portfolios “are meant to give a
comprehensive record of all aspects of a pupil’s life in school, including but going
well beyond classroom learning.”
While definitions of portfolio abound, the following was my (Portelli, 2004) working
definition of a portfolio, one that I evolved and used with my student-teachers and
explained at length the different components when required:
A portfolio is a careful collection of artefacts1 prepared consciously and
purposefully2 by the student-teacher according to some agreed criteria
and/or other criteria according to one’s personal choice3, that reflect
and present in a multidimensional and comprehensive4 way the level of
effort, progress and quality attained5 during a program of teaching and
learning in a specific area6, spread over a period of time7 and
potentially assessed with the participation of the teacher/lecturer and
student/s8.
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My definition touches upon eight different dimensions that can be considered as
fundamental to the process of portfolio development.
The portfolio is a more flexible and versatile means of assessment; forms part of what
is known as formative assessment and alternative assessment (Chetcuti and Grima,
2001: 17). By means of a portfolio, one can make knowledge creation one’s own.
One can connect better to the learning process, since one can apply what has been
learnt according to one’s interests, over a period of time, giving meaning and
substance to Harm Tillema’s (2001) dictum “portfolios as developmental assessment
tools.”
First and foremost, the purpose of a portfolio should be made clear to each and every
student. Teachers and lecturers should make explicit the purpose of the portfolio. Val
Klenowski (2002: 10-25) lists four key purposes for portfolios: for summative
purposes; for certification and selection purposes; to support learning and teaching;
and for professional development.
Portfolios have been explained metaphorically as being “portraits” (Graves and
Sustein, 1992) of individuals, “a kind of autobiography of growth” (Järvinen and
Kohonen, 1995: 29) or an “autobiography” of professional identity (Antonek,
McCormick and Donato, 1997). Since along the portfolio process one gathers a range
of artefacts that act as evidence towards a purpose, portfolios provide a wider, more
complex, multidimensional and deeper picture of what a person actually has managed
to learn. To a certain extent, the kind of portfolio that student-teachers developed for
the study-unit ‘The Literary Experience in Secondary School,’ follow Bonnie
Sunstein’s (2002: xii) proposal that “[p]ortfolios ought to be a personal document of
our personal literacy history,” and more specifically, their journey of becoming or
acting as teachers of literature during a six week block teaching practice. This was in
line with other experiments with portfolios elsewhere, where rather than “voluminous
scrapbooks of favourite memorabilia” (Brock, 2004: 8), student-teachers were
encouraged to select artefacts that illustrate their pedagogical understanding and
progress, in my case throughout their six weeks teaching Maltese in a secondary
school. Achievement is open to all; success in portfolio assessment, like other forms
of formative assessment, is a possibility for all to share and celebrate.
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By means of the portfolio collated specifically in relation to the study-unit ‘The
Literary Experience in Secondary School,’ student-teachers were invited to
experience for the first time not so common form of assessment at tertiary level in
Malta: authentic assessment or formative assessment. The creation of a portfolio as
part of a study-unit, touches upon and embraces some if not all of the following
aspects related to formative assessment and portfolio implementation, as featured in
Table 5.3.
Table 5.3: Features and aims of a portfolio system of assessment
Feature/Aim
A question of ownership
Becoming autonomous
learners
Improved feedback
Enhanced critical and
creative thinking
Multi-sourcing
Bridging the
teaching/learning divide
The development of criteria
Self- and peer-evaluation
Comment
The student-teacher’s ever increasing participation in and a feeling of
“ownership” (Baron and Collins, 1993, 202-203; Krause, 1996: 130;
Wiggins, 1992) of their program of study. Or as James Barton and
Angelo Collins (1993: 200) contend: “The experience of developing a
portfolio provides the prospective teachers opportunities to become
decision makers about curriculum, to develop various instructional
repertoires, to create productive classroom environments.”
Captured an authentic experience chosen and developed by the
student-teachers as autonomous learners. Indeed, I capitalised on the
research-based conclusion, but also my personal conviction, that
“…students tested in real-world environments in which that could
demonstrate their knowledge and skills performed better and were
significantly more motivated to continue to learn” when compared to
students assessed in a traditional paper-and-pencil manner (Hancock,
2007: 229).
Improved sincere communication, with greater emphasis on
‘feedback,’ between lecturer and student-teacher, and hopefully more
help and solidarity among student-teachers. Within this context
‘collaboration’ (Mullin, 1998: 81-82) or ‘coached activity’ (Shulman,
1998: 27-31) are the key-words.
Enhancement of reflective, critical and creative thinking (Klenowski,
2002: 2), what is also known as higher-level thinking, in real life
situations, pushing as much as possible an authentic agenda.
The development of student-teacher is shown in different forms, or
“multisourced” (Barton and Collins, 1993: 202). “Each item or feature
was to represent some belief they [student-teachers] had about
teaching – some value or goal” (LaBoskey, 2000: 592).
The institution of a stronger link between what normally are
considered as binary opposites: teaching and learning, theory and
practice, university and school life, lecture room and classroom,
private and community (Barton and Collins, 1993: 200). Val
Klenowski (2002: 2) contends that a portfolio “has the potential to
make more explicit the important relationship between curriculum,
assessment and pedagogy.”
The evaluation based on a number of possible criteria, descriptions of
attainment rather than numbers, all negotiated with student-teachers as
they were collating their portfolio.
Self- and peer-evaluation (vide Orsmond, Merry and Callaghan, 2004)
admit strong commitment and respect for student-teacher’s autonomy.
Furthermore, “self-assessment is an important tool for professional
development” (Järvinen and Kohonen, 1995: 25). On the other hand,
one must be aware of inherent limitations that spring from self- and
peer-assessment (vide Dochy, Segers and Sluijsmans, 1999).
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5.5.2
Artefacts
A careful and mindful collection of artefacts with accompanying reflections
explaining their selection, are the backbone of the portfolio. One cannot have a
portfolio without artefacts. The collection of artefacts must act as “portfolio evidence”
(Mullin, 1998: 83) and contributes towards the successful attainment of the purpose.
Table 5.4 presents an overview of different artefacts that student-teachers enrolled in
‘The Literary Experience in Secondary School’ could experiment with over a period
of time to include in their working portfolio and later on presentation portfolio. Some
practical suggestions also fit a pupil’s literature-inspired portfolio at secondary
school. Since student-teachers did not have a portfolio system when they were at
secondary school, I found it rewarding to present a horizon of possibilities that in turn
they could use with their pupils.
Table 5.4: A selection of artefacts related to teaching literature at secondary school
 Personal reflections on the world of literature
 A recording of yourself reading to your
students
 A certificate that you distribute to your
students after they read a book in a voluntary
way
 Report on an initiative that you take in
school so as to succeed in the act of reading
Maltese books (reading club)
 Comments on the reading of books and
articles along the teaching practice that you
consider them as an inspiration
 Create a mug with a literary message /
quotation
 Quotations that impress you on the subject of
reading literature
 Choice of music that you feel matches a
particular book
 A short anthology of literature writings of
your students
 A description of the ideal textbook in the
literature classroom
 An hypothetical article for the school journal
on an aspect on the literary word
 Poster/s or banner/s to advertise a book event
in your school
 An original book (written by you) for the
students in the secondary school
 A play about a situation that you have
experienced in the literary classroom
 A literature-based board-game
 A chart related to the teaching of literature
 The set of questions that you used for a quiz
about the Maltese literature at the end of your
teaching practice
 A list of desiderata about the teaching of
literature
 Your students’ desiderata on learning Maltese
literature
 A top-ten of the most popular authors in your
secondary school
 The drawing or comic for students in the
secondary level
 A set of lessons for students with special needs
in reading
 A video of you reading a literary text
 An interview with a co-operating teacher about
teaching literature in your school
 An interview with a student in the secondary
level regarding how s/he views him/herself as
a reader
 Your reply to a letter to the editor or an article
regarding the teaching of Maltese literature
 A book mark
 A list of your suggestions to have a change in
the teaching of literature in schools
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The time factor is also important in portfolio assessment. Portfolios need time to
grow, explore possibilities, evolve, transform and maybe mutate. That is why it is
best to keep the definition of portfolio rather open, “before we freeze them in a
definition or a standardized mandate” (Sunstein, 1992: xii).
Indeed, certain
standardisation of content is a way of ensuring validity, however having exclusively
mandated artefacts harnesses creativity. That is why I proposed a portfolio divided in
two sections: a section dedicated to required artefacts and another section equally
essential, to be developed more creatively according to one’s personal interests (vide
Chapter 11 for a detailed analysis of the contents of portfolio I developed with my
students).
Table 5.5 outlines a sample portfolio content list, with compulsory
artefacts in the left hand column, and a selection of typical artefacts in relation to
individualised topic.
Table 5.5: Typical contents of a portfolio based on teaching Maltese literature in a
secondary school
Section I
Compulsory Content
Section II
Individualised Content**
The context were I taught Maltese literature
 The school where I had my teaching
experience and where I taught literature
 My relationship with the co-operating teacher/s
 My students and the teaching of literature
 A justification for the topic and aim of the
individualised content section
 A model certificate I handed out after we
finished reading the class novel
 A short selection of quotations related to
teaching of literature that were particularly
inspiring during the last six weeks
 A selection of pupils’ work done during the
literature lessons
 The poster I did to inform the pupils about the
mid-day break book club
 Some comments I received from the students at
the end of my teaching practice
Models of positive practice
 My best literature lesson during the last six
weeks
 Three resources that had a positive impact on
teaching of literature
 The reading act: Voicing and interpretation
Reflection and evaluation*
 The evaluations I wrote after each and every
literature lesson
 My reflections before and after the two
conferences
 An evaluation of the whole portfolio process
and product
** The content of this section varies from student to
student according to one’s desires, effort and
inventiveness. In Table 5.3 I gathered some
examples of what they could produce
* The first group had to keep a reflective diary too, that
was deemed irrelevant when one wrote lesson
evaluations.
Decisions about portfolio “must include the reality of living and growing with the
process of keeping one” (Graves, 1992: 5). Unfortunately, when portfolios are used
in large-scale assessment there is the tendency to standardise their contents to make
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comparisons easier (Graves, 1992: 2), and worse of all, use traditional teacher/lecturer
assessment only.
5.5.3
Portfolios: Process or product?
It may be useful to question whether in portfolios product or process aspects prevail.
Both perspectives are justifiable and one can find sound arguments on both sides (vide
Meyer and Tusin, 1999: 135-136).
Influenced by the fear of false dichotomies
(LaBoskey, 1998) and taking on a moderate perspective – “a necessary antidote to the
excesses that result when this or that element in any rhetorical transaction is turned
into an exclusive center” Booth (1995: viii, commenting on Louise Rosenblatt) – I
find peace in trying to reconcile both perspectives into a coherent model that
embraces both. After experiencing the development and growth of a number of
portfolios in relation to teaching literature for the first time in a secondary school, I
can safely conclude that a portfolio signifies both a product and a process at the same
time, as shown in Table 5.6.
Artefacts
Individual
5.5.4
P
O
R
T
F
O
L
I
O
Process
Common
Product
Table 5.6: The relationship between process and product dimensions of a portfolio
Selection
Reflection
Conference
Assessment of portfolios
Criteria development and rubric construction and evaluation, are all stages of the
portfolio process.
Student-teachers’ involvement throughout the duration of the
study-unit or programme of study ensures that criteria are owned by everyone
involved. Discussions can lead to the explication of criteria and refinement of the
descriptors of attainment that would later be used in grading achievement.
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In fact, portfolios lend themselves wonderfully to self-assessment (Chetcuti and
Grima, 2001: 57-58) or “self-grading” (Mullins, 1998: 84) and peer-assessment,
especially when criteria and rubrics are developed along the portfolio process.
Students are to be considered “as one of the essential evaluators in the portfolio
process” (Graves, 1992: 3). I was particularly sensitive about some shortcomings
related to self- and peer-evaluation, such as “validity and reliability of peer
evaluations is debatable” (Ryan, Marshall, Porter and Jia, 2007: 50), and the tendency
for good students to under-rate themselves and vice-versa, poorer students tend to
over-rate themselves (Dochy, Segers and Sluijsmans, 1999). On the other hand, there
are some practical measures that I tried to implement as much as possible, to increase
the likelihood that self- and peer-assessment yield the desired result, such as involving
students in the process and product at an early stage as possible, involving students in
discussions about criteria, and limiting the dimensions used in assessment (Falchikov
and Goldfinch, 2000: 317). Portfolios can be granted with the credit of having
“institutionalize[d] norms of collaboration, reflection, and discussion” (Shulman,
1998: 36).
I prefer a joint-assessment model where teachers and students work collaboratively or
in “partnership” (Graves, 1992: 5) when assessing a portfolio, what Rebecca
Anderson (1998: 9) calls “the shared model” or a balanced approach, notwithstanding
the fact that “portfolio assessment inevitably involves some degree of subjectivity”
(Driessen, et al., 2005: 214).
Engaged in this way, student-teachers “can gain
multiple perspectives on their work” (Anderson, 1998: 13) especially from peers. At
the same time, the lecturer does not feel any more the need to feel and shoulder on
his/her own the responsibility of assigning grades, thus “becoming conductors and
facilitators of learning” (Harris and Bell, 1990: 114). Periodic portfolio conferences –
meaningful meetings on a specific aspect of the portfolio during the whole process of
collating, selecting and presentation – are great opportunities to discuss the criteria
and explore different ways student-teachers can work towards their attainment. The
final conference, that is the very last conference before submission, student-teachers
“begin the process by reviewing their portfolio files, analyzing and synthesizing
patterns, and evaluating their own professional progress” (Brock, 2004: 9). Rubrics
devised during the different conferences and through an open discussion (some of
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which using e-mails) were used in assessing the different portfolios; their efficacy and
principles behind their development is expounded in the following section.
Table 5.7: The kind of balanced portfolio assessment I envision
Teacher Assessment
Final Grade
Self-Assessment
Peer-Assessment
Some might start to question the practicality of portfolios, with all the added time,
work and energy they entail, coupled with the validity and reliability issues. Shulman
(1998: 34-35) identifies five dangers or pitfalls with portfolios: lamination all through,
or being exclusively exhibition portfolios; heavy lifting or the fact that portfolios
require countless hours to produce and assess; trivialisation being inconsiderate about
what should and should not go in a portfolio; perversion, or the fact that they may
misrepresent an individual’s attainment to accommodate a standardised system that is
easy to administer and monitor; and misrepresentation, that is choosing only the best
samples may distance one further from what is typical day-to-day performance.
Finally, I believe that all rests on the commitment one has to a vision of education that
is more participative, engaging, authentic, and worth living. I agree with Shulman
(1998) when he describes a portfolio as a “theoretical activity.” Each infinitesimal
choice, from a simple artefact to include or leave out, to a lengthy reflective writing
explaining a particular choice or decision, evidences a commitment to a particular
way of thinking about education and conceptualising pedagogy.
5.6
Rubrics
Rubrics are a valuable tool when one tries to assess authentic teaching and learning.
They are considered as “one of the handiest aids to educators since the invention of
the blackboard” (Stevens and Levi, 2005: vii) or “the most effective grading device
119
since the invention of red ink” (Stevens and Levi, 2005: 3). Similarly to assessment
for learning or performance assessment, their “construction and use is in its infancy”
(Taggart and Wood, 1998: 74). They are the link that amalgamates what is taught
with what is learnt; they bring to the forefront the relationship inherent between
instruction and assessment.
Deriving from Latin meaning red colouring matter used to write in margins of old
manuscripts to give directions to the reader, rubrics later became associated with a
protocol, a set of rules, ergo ‘criteria to be followed.’ To put it simply… “Rubrics are
guidelines that measure degrees of quality” (Burke, 2005: 6). According to Ethel
Edwards (1998: 3) “scoring rubrics offer very exacting definitions of the outcomes
being evaluated.” Apart from definition of outcomes, it is highly suggested that all
rubrics contain: “an identified behaviour within an assessment task; quality or
performance standard; descriptors of the desired standard; and a scale to be used in
rating student performance” (Taggart and Wood, 1998: 58-59). By and large, these
four characteristics – task description, scale, dimensions and description of
dimensions – can also be found in Stevens and Levi’s (2005: 5-14) research.
Rubrics tend to present a more comprehensive picture of a student’s abilities,
potential and differences, in a particular area, unlike the description of achievement
translated in grades very common in traditional forms of evaluations. Typically,
rubrics are accompanied by a numerical scale, verbal descriptors or some other form
of differentiated attainment towards a given criteria; a raw score can be achieved by
ticking a number of boxes with the relevant attainment. Thus, grades that derive from
a rubric may be more meaningful. Apart from grades, rubrics normally suggest
further room for development rather than setting the minimum standard expected by a
student.
Three major benefits when using rubrics are, that they “save time, provide timely,
meaningful feedback for students, and have the potential to become an effective part
of the teaching and learning process” (Stevens and Levi, 2005: 17). Unpacking the
third benefit, one might add the fact that rubrics encourage critical thinking, facilitate
communication with others, help teachers and lecturers refine their teaching skills
(Stevens and Levi, 2005: 21-28). Then there is the question of ownership; a truly
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dialogic rubric “is created by collaborative development and constant dialogue
regarding the merits of the rubric” (Taggart, Phifer, Nixon and Wood, 1998: ix).
Rubrics are not ready made for the students – actually students have to take part in
their construction to be a truly valuable and authentic assessment tool. “Rubrics are
only as good as their ability to fit the situation for which they are used” (Taggart,
Phifer, Nixon and Wood, 1998: xi). In writing and redrafting a rubric, the challenge
most of the time is to find a balance between standardisation, and creativity and
flexibility, on the other hand, in such a way as to “accommodate students’ different
styles and processes of writing and of portfolio-making” (Burch, 1997: 55).
While constructing a rubric for the first time may be a daunting experience for
teachers and students alike (Burke, 2005: 85), and most probably “may take more
time than save” (Stevens and Levi, 2005: 14), it is time well invested. Stevens and
Levi (2005: 29-38) suggest four stages for rubric construction:
 reflecting on what is going to be expected by the students, the reasons behind the
task and their expectations;
 listing the specific learning objectives to be reached by the completion of the task;
 grouping and labelling what was reflected upon and listed in the previous two
stages; and in the end
 applying the dimensions and descriptions to the final rubric.
One way of internalising the criteria is by involving the students from the beginning.
One might even be amazed to find out how many times: “Students frequently have
excellent insights on how they’d like to be assessed, and designing a rubric certainly
helps them understand the seriousness of their undertaking” (Burch, 1997: 58).
Indeed, one of the suggestions frequently given on rubric construction is: “Share the
rubrics prior to use with your students so that predetermined criteria are understood
by all and ownership of the rubric is certain” (Taggart, Phifer, Nixon and Wood,
1998: xi).
Criteria are best understood when accompanied by a number of exemplars illustrating
different levels of attainment and explicating the meaning of each standard.
Appendix B sets out the two rubrics devised with my student-teachers to assess their
portfolio on teaching literature for six weeks in a secondary school.
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Rubrics will facilitate feedback on a given task, and they are to be viewed as an
ongoing process or creation, revision, editing, and periodically revisited.
5.7
Imagination and assessment
Reading literature may lead to feeling lost in a “secondary world” (Tolkien,
1938/1964), the world of imagination. On the other hand, imagination or creativity
are rarely mentioned in literature on assessment practices.
Assessment and
evaluations are part of reality at school, to an extent that they are inextricably tied
together.
The often quoted Inside the Black Box (Black and Wiliam, 1998)
recommends a rethinking in the right direction. However, assessment for learning
principles and practices do not save schools from becoming an “apparatus of
uninterrupted examination that duplicated along the entire length the operation of
teaching” (Foucault, 1979: 186; my emphasis). But I believe more can be done…
Let us take a step back… In their over 500 page report on 9/11, the National
Commission on Terrorist Attacks Upon the United States, known as the 9/11 or
Kean/Hamilton Commission, identified ““failure of imagination” and a mind-set that
dismissed possibilities” (2004: 336) as one of the key four failures that were revealed
by 9/11; while on the other-hand, the terrorists’ mastermind applied his “imagination,
technical aptitude, and managerial skills” (National Commission on Terrorist Attacks
Upon the United States, 2004: 145). I think no one would dispute the fact that:
“Imagination is not a gift usually associated with bureaucracies” (National
Commission on Terrorist Attacks Upon the United States, 2004: 344). Even policy
challenges are intimately related with imagination (National Commission on Terrorist
Attacks Upon the United States, 2004: 349). I find it rather strange to read, as one of
the recommendations: “It is therefore crucial to find a way of routinizing, even
bureaucratizing, the exercise of imagination” (National Commission on Terrorist
Attacks Upon the United States, 2004: 344).
Even in the most bureaucratic
environments, like examination boards, imagination should be a constant ingredient
that guides review and improvement.
So let us imagine a world without assessment…
There seems to be a limit or
psychological barrier in many individuals to envision such a world. This seems to be
122
because “assessment… is a constructed generalised idea that has come to colonise the
world” (Peim and Flint, 2009: 353). Others (radical or innovative educationalists – it
depends how you want to look at them – such as John Holt, and A. S. Neil at
Summerhill School) opt for a kind of examination- or assessment-free future, a
possibility for everyone to share its fruits.
123
INTERMEZZO I
My passion for writing: A counterpoint
I must admit that I always had a difficult relationship with writing. More than a lovehate relationship, it is a passion in the two etymological senses of the word. Passion
comes from the Late Latin passionem (nom. passio) “suffering, enduring,” and from
Latin stem pati “to suffer, endure”. Then, around the sixteenth and seventeenth
century, from the Late Latin use of passio and from the Greek pathos its meaning was
extended to include “a strong emotion, desire” and “strong liking, enthusiasm,
predilection.”
Writing is a passion in the sense that it is always difficult, an
extenuating endeavour that takes away all my energies and at the same time I feel
nearly morbidly attracted to it, very much similar to a pyrotechnic affair with fire.
In this first Intermezzo piece, I am going to present a collage of reflections on my
writing journey/passion, a mélange of poetry mainly haiku and senryu which I have
been composing now for some time (Portelli 2008), and a number of illuminating
quotes that have struck a chord with me on writing. A collage has the power of
juxtaposition, disparate items are placed close to each other and create a tension that
is perceived by the reader, instantaneously, visually. A collage creates a problem or
challenge with reading too, since the writing conventions are played upon to create an
unusual effect.

This reflection was written
in a frenzy on 14th April
2006, the day Christians
commemorate Good Friday.
Today Malta is packed with
processions of different
statues that represent
different moments leading
to the Christ’s crucifixion.
Indeed the following day,
Saturday, is a time of deep
sorrow, a day that
culminates in the Via
Crucis; once more a
narration of the stations to
the cross, with reflections
to inspire the believers.
The Via Crucis set in Rome
in the Coliseum is led by
the Pope himself. The Via
124
Crucis or as it is also
known, Via Dolorosa, is that
stretch of road in Jerusalem
between the Antonia
fortress and the Golgotha,
along which Jesus Christ
walked bowed under the
weight of the Cross.

finding a book
in second hand book shop
and a new friend
just before the break
pupils with their lunches on their table
an open air Moroccan bazaar
locked in a laboratory
garments hanging by the door
as if wanting to leave
short study-visits
in breath freezing weather
warm heart from Leicester

Writing cannot be
considered a part of my
life as much as my whole
life. Research cannot be a
portion of my life, either.
Research is a way of living.
Being analytical, searching
for patterns, scrutinising
the evident, being
sceptical about what is at
hand, delving deep into
the known to get a glimpse
of the unknown, new,
mysterious… are all skills
and attitudes that shape
one mentally and condition
a way of life, a way of
perceiving reality.
Therefore, experience is
always mediated through
the a priori conditioning
that has taken place once
a decision – conscious with
unconscious ramifications –
has been taken that lead to
a swarm of other decisions
all reflecting the former.
Hence, all experience
including doing research, is
always felt with great
intensity, with an
engagement that I cannot
shed off or set aside. I am
what I read… I am what I
write.
 On Serendipity
“…false beliefs and discoveries totally without credibility could then lead to the discovery
of something true [….] they are about ideas, projects, beliefs that exist in a twilight zone
between the common sense and lunacy, truth and error, visionary intelligence and what
now seems to us stupidity, though it was not stupid in its day and we must therefore
reconsider it with respect”
Umberto Eco (1999) Serendipities: Language and Lunacy, pp. viii-ix.

thousand words
but no one opens my heart
as my dear…
women faces
reflected in puddles of fresh rain
immediately fade
125
striptease
what is left to chew on
bare bones

Writing and phenomenology
These are some quotes from Max van Manen (1997: 126-132) that left me reflecting every time I
read them. They are a source of inspiration for my writing…
i. “To write is to measure the depth of things, as well to come to a sense of one’s own
depth”
ii. “To write means to write myself, not in a narcissistic sense but in a deep
collective sense.”
iii. “To write, to work at style, is to exercise an interpretative tact,
which in the sense of style produces the thinking/writing body of text.”
iv. “Writing plays the inner against the outer, the subjective self
against the objective self, the ideal against the real.”
v. “Writing distances us from lived experience but by
doing so it allows us to discover the existential
structures of experience.”
vi. “Writing teaches us what we know, and in
what way we know what we know.”
vii. “Writing is a kind of self-making
or forming” (pp. 126-127)
viii.
“Writing
intellectualizes.”
ix. “…the writing of
the
text
is
the
research.”
 Discussion
moving to the left
the teacher returns to the centre
and then moves to the right

“In the end, what turned out to be missing
was much more important than teaching.
What turned out to be missing was living,
learning to live the life of a teacher –
which means first of all learning to live the life
that is the life of yourself.”
Tremmel Robert Zen and the Practice of Teaching English (1999: 9)
 Earnestly waiting my day of courage, like Cesare Pavese then I could say
Non più parole.
Ma azione.
Non scriverò più.
[No more words / But action / I will not write anymore.]
But until that day, I write….
126

Words crucified on a page
Every writer has a love-hate relationship with words. Writing is the labour required to give birth to a
text on a paper. The following is a poem I wrote about this relationship and birth that cannot be
withheld.
Found words in a dictionary
Pinned on a velvety surface
A graveyard of words missing in action
Insects in an etymologic tray
Progress/regress in language
Inspection with/out deceit
A necessary collateral damage
Ideas start to grow
To write
A foetus in an unwanted womb
Is to forget oneself
Strings of a colourful DNA
OR
A horses’ tail
To think only about oneself
Neatly prepared for the race
Is to write
Paragraphs that strangely find their way
Paragraphs that should have stayed in
I know some of you…
Chapters that should have stayed
Play with you…
Dark unspoken
Love you…
I Despise - Hate - Abhor – Detest >
Committing words to paper is
All the rest
Forging ones’ thoughts
You spy on me
Hammering ideas
Like a secret mafia collaborator
On disinfected white paper
A mole digging its grave
Ideas that please
In a hard granite hearth
Delight
Without soul
Makes you want to cry
So what?
Words loom inside
Discreetly
I hate myself for doing it
Travel far and wide
I do not like to do it
Colliding stars in my imagination
I have to do it.
I do…
Cells that gravitate towards each other
Tear each other apart
Roll, dance, fight, despise
PS
forgetting lessons to remember
127
PART II
METHODOLOGY AND METHODS IN THE FIELD
128
OVERVIEW
My research is based on a number of codified practices blended together
according to situational requirements and contextual needs.
This approach
embraces an image of the researcher as a bricoleur, with his actions revolving
on the concept of bricolage. In Chapter 6 I explore and explain the relationship
between research methods, methodology, epistemology and ontology. From these
four, I then explain a number of postulates that underpin my research.
The
practicalities of my research, such as sample and selection of data generating
experiences in sequence are presented in Chapter 7. Finally, ethical issues are
considered in their different facets pertinent to my research, evidencing a
predilection towards an ethical practice based on what I call an ethically informed
responsible agent.
129
CHAPTER 6
Some philosophical underpinnings to my methodology
6.1
Preamble: My quest
I arrived at this thesis with what the Japanese call shoshin or “beginner’s mind” (Suzuki, 1970: 21).
I was open to a horizon of possibilities, ready to entertain tentative answers to myriad of questions.
Although previously I wrote a dissertation and a thesis, I did not feel at all secure in my
capabilities, what would be considered as an ‘expert’ in my field. Yet, I was willing to move
beyond the limits of my previous research.
Both as a student and as a supervisor of undergraduates and postgraduate student-teachers, I read
on both qualitative and quantitative paradigms with equidistant involvement. In a way, I started to
feel disengaged with both paradigms, viewing them rather mechanistically… one can either choose
this or that… and then this would follow. Guiding student-teachers finding their own road in the
methodological terrain became part of a year-in year-out routine.
However, things were not as simple when I finally had to choose my methodology for my research.
Torn between my traditional training in educational research methods bi-forked in qualitative and
quantitative research, I was rather convinced that there must be something ‘more’ to research than
just selecting methods and following them verbatim.
Most of my doubts, hesitations and in a way dissatisfaction, found relief not in research methods
books or Western philosophy, but rather in teachings originating in the orient. And through my
research I was convinced about one thing: I wanted to make a meaningful difference in my life and
in those people around me, namely student-teachers. Why else would I have fallen in love with
teaching and pedagogy?
Humbly, I was very much aware of what Shunryu Suzuki (1970: 22) calls “the real secret of the arts:
always be a beginner.” Indeed, I found great relief in Suzuki’s (1970: 22) insight:
When we have no thought of achievement, no thought of self, we are true
beginners. Then we can really learn something. The beginner’s mind is the mind of
compassion. When the mind is compassionate, it is boundless.
I felt that I had to do away with my certainties, move beyond my “comfort zones” (Powell and
Brady, 1985: 167-171), and be open to new and enriching possibilities.
Just when I was going to succumb to the dualistic nature of research as traditionally conceived and
divided between positivistic and naturalistic inquiry, or qualitative and quantitative research (vide
130
Cohen and Manion, 1994: 1-43), another precious maxim came to my rescue. As Bashō (in Hamill,
1998: xxx) used to say to his students: “Do not simply follow in the footsteps of the ancients; seek
what they sought”.
6.2
The journey metaphor
The journey metaphor has been widely used, documented and analysed (vide Lakoff
and Johnson, 1980: 44-45, 89-96; Lakoff and Turner, 1989). One might unpack and
better understand this metaphor by identifying the slots in its schema map…
All journeys involve travellers, paths travelled, places where we start,
and places where we have been. Some journeys are purposeful and
have destinations that we set out for, while others may involve
wandering without any destination in mind.
(Lakoff and Turner, 1989: 60-61)
Different religions share the journey as one of their leitmotivs. The hajj is one of
Muslims’ sacred pillars, a journey to Mecca that each and every Muslim has to do at
least once in their life. A religious group within the Roman Catholic Church known
as the Neo-catechumen, emphasise the concept of embarking upon a journey,
leading to a greater awareness of Jesus and his teachings. Jungian psychology has
identified in the journey a powerful archetype usually associated with the series of
tribulations that the protagonist or the hero has to undergo to reach his or her
destination, epitomised in some new knowledge or intellectual truth. This archetype
finds a natural context in literary figures like Odysseus in Homer’s Odyssey, Dante’s
long journey taking him from Hell to Purgatory to Heaven in The Divine Comedy,
Malta’s most important poem after the national anthem ‘Il-Jien u Lilhinn Minnu’
[‘The self and beyond it’] written by the national poet Dun Karm Psaila (1980), and
Leopold Bloom in Ulysses by James Joyce. On the other hand, it is still very much
alive in popular films like Forrest Gump (Zemeckis, 1994) and The Lion King
(Allers and Minkoff, 1994). “[T]he understanding of life as a journey permits not
just a single simpleminded conceptualization of life but rather a rich and varied one”
(Lakoff and Turner, 1989: 61).
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My quest for my methodology has many contact points with the journey metaphor.
During my research, the most rewarding experiences or parts of the journey were
those with no predetermined aim or goal…
We conduct research because we don’t know something and are
setting out on a process to find out. This is emotionally and
intellectually slippery territory, and frequently we are challenged to
unlearn things we hold dear, view the world differently, let sacred
cows be slaughtered and live with different ways of knowing and
different knowledges (sic).
(Pinn, 2001: 194)
I cannot but agree, especially in the light of Martin Heidegger’s (1993: 374)
paradoxical comment on the value and necessity of unlearning: “…we can learn
thinking only if radically unlearn what thinking has been traditionally. To do that,
we must at the same time come to know it.” And when discussing technology,
Heidegger (2003: 279) begins his essay by reflecting on the relevance of the
‘question’ in the quest for knowledge:
Questioning builds a way. We would be advised, therefore, above all
to pay heed to the way, and not to fix our attention on isolated
sentences and topics. The way is a way of thinking. All ways of
thinking, more or less perceptibly, lead through language in a manner
that is extraordinary.
Therefore, the direction I was to take on my journey was intimately related to the
kind and type of questions I was to make and try to answer. Different researchers
have tried to codify a typology of questions (vide Barnes, 1971; Brown and Wragg,
1993) but none seemed to satisfy my desires. Things remained obfuscated until I
read Jack Whitehead’s two related articles: ‘Creating a living educational theory
from questions of the kind: “How can I improve my practice?”’ (1989), and ‘How
do I improve my practice? Creating and legitimating an epistemology of practice’
(2000). These two articles put emphasis on the kind of questions and research I was
looking for at that time (vide Chapter 1). They put emphasis on the self as a
research subject. At last, my kind of question/s started to emerge…
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6.3
Method/s, methodology, epistemology and ontology
What follows is a bottom-up analysis of four concepts pertinent to my research.
“Research seeks to generate knowledge” (Higgs, 2001: 48), which in its crudest
form is data collected with the aid of research method/s, within a coherent
framework known as methodology.
Each researcher’s act, consciously or
unconsciously reflects and enacts a set of assumptions about the nature of
knowledge, epistemology. Finally, the way data will be transformed into evidence
presented within a sound argument to substantiate knowledge claims, relates to a
particular paradigm, a world view or ontology and involves a hermeneutic process.
6.3.1
Methods and methodology
A useful starting distinction is that between methods and methodology. Louis
Cohen and Lawrence Manion (1994: 38) refer to methods as “the range of
approaches used in educational research to gather data which are used as a basis for
inference and interpretation, for explanation and prediction.” Examples of methods
are interviews, questionnaires, personal accounts, observation checklists and
episodes. However, recent developments oppose the conception of method as “a
more or less successful set of procedures for reporting on a given reality” (Law,
2004: 143).
Instead, the new definition of method emphasises their dynamic,
creative and performative aspect:
It helps to produce realities. It does not do so freely and at whim.
There is a hinterland of realities, of manifest absences and
Othernesses (sic), resonances and patterns of one kind or another,
already being enacted, and it cannot ignore these. … It reworks and
re-bundles these and as it does so re-crafts realities and creates new
versions of the world. It makes new signals and new resonances,
new manifestations and new concealments, and it does so
continuously. Enactments and the realities that they produce do not
automatically stay in place. Instead they are made and remade.
(Law, 2004: 143)
On the other hand, methodology refers to the reasons why these methods were used,
their relation and rationale.
The etymology of ‘methodology’ elucidates its
meaning: a word coined from two Greek elements: meta- meaning “after,” and
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hodos meaning “way, a travelling”, in other words, walking in others’ footsteps,
following what others found to be effective in problem solving or reaching an
objective. Action research, case-study, ethno-methodology and deconstruction are
frameworks that guide either research or the writing of research. Whilst methods
refer to a set of discrete techniques, methodology tries to philosophically explain
what is achieved by these methods and why they were employed. Therefore, one
can distinguish between the two as between the ‘how’, and the ‘why’ of research.
6.3.2
Epistemology
What is collected and interpreted as data useful to the task at hand, refers to even
deeper questions about the nature of knowledge, at times referred to as the theory of
knowledge, or epistemology.
The theory of knowledge or epistemology poses
fundamental questions about the nature of knowledge, how it can be known and
validated and the relationship between knowing and being. The following are just a
few examples of epistemological queries that philosophy tries to ponder on and
maybe try to explain: How and by whom knowledge is constructed? What counts as
knowledge? Is there one kind of knowledge or are there many kinds of knowledge?
How can one explain the difference between facts, opinions, beliefs and
interpretations? What role do values have in the process of understanding? How
can one describe and maybe qualify the relationship between the knower and the
known (Grene, 1966)? Can someone ever say that he/she knows something in an
absolute sense? Or to put it differently, what is the difference between certitude and
partial/relative knowledge? What is the role of experience in this process? What
counts as true or error in an argument? Who and how can one judge?
6.3.3
Ontology
Any epistemological discussion is framed within a particular worldview. Ontology,
or a theory of existence, “deals with what exists, what is reality, what is the nature
of the world” (Higgs, 2001: 49). Therefore, one key ontological question queries
the nature of reality, and what differentiates reality from mere appearances. Indeed,
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“[t]he ontological assumptions we make about the nature of things lie at the core of
the theories we use to interpret the world” (Higgs and Titchen, 1998: 74). In a
sense, ontological questions are unavoidable in any research, and the researcher
should feel a responsibility to explore them early on in his/her research. Joy Higgs
(2001: 49) recommends that: “Researchers need to understand the assumptions
about existence underlying any theory or system of ideas we use to research and
interpret the world.”
6.4
My assumptions or framing my research
Two other words necessary to frame my research are: paradigms and assumptions.
Paradigm was made popular in Thomas Kuhn’s (1962/1970) The Structure of
Scientific Revolutions. It has come to mean “a set of overarching and interconnected
assumptions about the nature of reality [….] provides the basis on which we build
our verifiable knowledge” (Maykut and Morehouse, 1994: 4).
In my case, I
consider ‘qualitative research’ (vide Denzin and Lincoln, 2005) as my general frame
of reference draws on the reflective process as exemplified in ‘action research’ (vide
McNiff and Whitehead, 2002). Then, each paradigm is erected upon a number of
assumptions that “cannot be proved but may be stipulated” (Maykut and Morehouse,
1994: 4). These philosophical underpinnings are also known as postulates, “that is
something given the status of acceptance in order to get on with the task at hand”
(Maykut and Morehouse, 1994: 10). In my case, the different assumptions or
postulates that I wholeheartedly and at times critically embrace, are derived not
from a single specialisation, but rather, from a blend of three fields of knowledge:
reader-response theory (Chapter 3); the relevance of reflection in education (Chapter
4); and issues related to evaluation and assessment (Chapter 5).
Further, the
following are some of the assumptions and tenets of my research, that I have come
to believe from when I commenced this thesis to date.
My methodological
awareness evolved during the past few months, and with all probability will carry on
changing.
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6.4.1
Multiple constructed realities
Qualitative research assumes that what is commonly called ‘reality’, in fact consists
of “multiple constructed realities” (Lincoln and Guba, 1985: 89) or “multiple
worlds” (Law, 2004: 45-67). Lincoln and Guba (1985: 83) are doubtful whether
‘reality’ exists or not, and conclude that: “If there is [a reality], we can never know
it. Furthermore, no amount of inquiry can produce convergence on it.” Instead,
Lincoln and Guba (1985: 83-84) postulate what they call a “constructed reality”:
There is, in this ontological position, always an infinite number of
constructions that might be made and hence there are multiple realities.
Any given construction may not be (and almost certainly is not) in a
one-to-one relation (or isomorphic with) other constructions of the same
(by definition only) entity. The definition is implied by the use of some
common referent term, which is nevertheless understood (or
constructed) differently by different individuals (or constructors).
I agree that there are different versions of reality depending on the particular point
of view and who is the onlooker.
Or as expressed by John Law (2004: 54):
“Objects, then, don’t exist in themselves. They are being crafted, assembled as part
of a hinterland”; or as expressed even more succinctly by Kim Etherington (2004:
27): “reality is socially and personally constructed.” Changing the mode of reality
analysis will invariably produce a different version. Realities are always ascribed
with meaning by those that participate in them rather then having a meaning in
themselves that the participants or constructors have to dig out. Therefore, I believe
that experience is assigned meaning as it evolves and is always mediated through
my language and the interactions with others within that particular reality, according
to my beliefs, ideologies, gender, and the like. These complexities “cannot be
understood by one-dimensional, reductionist approaches; they demand the humanas-instrument; they demand indwelling” (Maykut and Morehouse, 1994: 27).
6.4.2
The primacy of reflexivity
Indwelling is synonymous with the stance taken by the qualitative researcher, that is,
reflection, “the interpretation of interpretation and the launching of critical selfexploration of one’s own interpretations of empirical material (including its
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construction)” (Alversson and Sköldberg, 2000: 6).
In educational discourse,
reflection has gained ever more prominence that perpetuates the new ideology (vide
Chapter 4). Not only is the teacher considered a professional by virtue of his/her
reflective quality, but also the practitioner researcher is endowed with this quality
(Parson and Brown, 2002). It may be propitious to start to “think of research as
constituted by processes of social reflexivity, and then, of self-reflexivity as social
process” (Steiner, 1991: 3).
Numerous topics in The SAGE Handbook of
Qualitative Research Methods (Denzin and Lincoln, 2005) touch on the value of
reflection within a qualitative design. Indeed, reflection would be the link between
the practice and interpretation of events, within a cycle of experiential learning
(Moon, 2004: 121-130). This importance is transferred to different models of action
research, as highlighted by these definitions extrapolated from key books in the
area: “Action research is simply a form of self-reflective enquiry…” (Carr and
Kemmis, 1986: 162) and “Action research involves learning in and through action
and reflection…” (McNiff and Whitehead, 2002: 15).
6.4.3
The relationship between the researcher and the researched
Quantitative research assumes that the researcher and the researched are
“interdependent” (Lincoln and Guba, 1985: 104). Practitioners who use themselves
in all areas of their research tend to “value transparency in relationships”
(Etherington, 2004: 16), and at the same time “close the illusionary gap between
researcher and researched and between the knower and what is known” (ibid. p. 32).
Furthermore, action research is at times called participatory research (Kemmis and
Wilkinson, 1998), emphasising the dialogical nature of the inquiry. The researcher
acknowledges his/her personal limitations and works to overcome them in
conjunction with other participants.
Collaboration is the key.
The researcher
negotiates with the other participants her/his power. In addition, when writing the
final script, the qualitative researcher attends to their voice, extrapolating selections
from the participant’s contributions (vide Chapters 10, 11 and 12).
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6.4.4 As a researcher I acknowledge and embrace my subjectivity
Dealing with subjectivity has become one of the most pressing issues within
qualitative research. “My subjectivity is the basis for the story that I am able to tell.
It is the strength on which I build. It makes me who I am as a person and as a
researcher…” (Glesne and Peshkin, 1992: 104). I go as far as to contend that
objectivity is impossible to achieve “when my personal engagement is so
interwoven with the intellectual and political aspects of the project” (D’Cruz, 2001:
19). Indeed, my beliefs, my critically examined preconceptions, my gender and
ethnicity, my personal values and history, are all considered important to the
research process and contribute to my identity as a researcher. For as Hilary Radnor
(2001: 31) explains: “The researcher cannot remove her own way of seeing from the
process, but she can engage reflexively in the process and be aware of her
interpretive framework.” Values determine the nature of research and one cannot
but declare in advance his/her position. Declaring one’s position or mapping one’s
co-ordinates (vide Chapter 1) is the only way to move forward in a terrain in
constant state of flux.
6.4.5 Situated knowledge(s)
Morwenna Griffiths (1995: 61) concludes that “knowledge must be grounded in
individual ‘experience’, ‘perspectives’, ‘subjectivity’, or ‘position in a discourse’”
and since all knowledge is subject to critique, “there is no possibility of the
acquisition or creation of stable, unchanging knowledge.”
Learning from
experience in an action research project will yield a number of insights emerging
from a methodical and detailed analysis of the situation, time or context under study.
That is why “…knowledge can only be partial and built upon culturally defined
stocks of knowledge available to us at any given time in history” (Etherington,
2004: 27). Situational knowledge is entangled in a particular discourse, open for
revision, and is neither innocent, permanent, value-free, pure, neutral, transparent, or
absolute. Indeed, all knowledge is ultimately revisable, partial and provisional.
Law (2004: 3) makes the point that maybe “we will need to rethink how far
whatever it is that we know travels and whether it still makes sense in other
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locations, and if so how. This would be knowing as situated inquiry.” This is in
sharp contrast with what quantitative research strives at, that is generalisations and
universal truths.
6.4.6
The sense of endings
The end. To a certain extent, those two small words give the viewer or reader a
sense of momentary relief since things seem to fall into place at the end! Things
seem to arrive at their destination by achieving their purported purpose. However,
this sense of security brought about by the full stop of a sentence, has been replaced
by the more elusive ellipsis that rather poetically reflects “a trailing off into silence”
(Anon, 2007). This apparently slight stylistic modification has brought around a
desire for a new burgeoning ‘sense of endings,’ in the plural; not to be confused
with Frank Kermode’s (1968) use in the singular.
Researchers, like viewers and readers, must come to terms with a set of completely
new
narrative
characteristics:
ambiguity,
uncertainty,
irrationality
and
indeterminacy. Thus, the researcher must be open to what the unfolding events
suggest. Data emerges from the ashes of everyday encounters like the mythological
phoenix. Qualitative research may be viewed as that stance toward knowledge
production that considers invaluable not just the final product but values also the
way one arrived at that destination; as elegantly expressed in Bashō’s (1998: 3) most
famous travelogue written circa 1694, Narrow Road to the Interior, “…every day is
a journey, and the journey itself is home.”
6.4.7
Language, discourse and identity
I share Griffiths (1995: 13) assumption about language, that is: “…language creates
us but is also created by us.” Two important related features of language that act
rather covertly on personal and collective identities are power and ideology
(Fairclough, 2001). Power is infused in every relation(ship) and is unavoidable like
ideology that permeates all languages. As Griffiths (1995: 1) contends “…my
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individuality is shaped by political forces and what I feel as deeply personal is
affected by public systems control.”
The relationship between language, power and ideology, points toward another
related term, discourse. Gee (2005: 21) defines Discourse with a capital ‘D’ as:
“ways of combining and integrating language, actions, interactions, ways of
thinking, believing, valuing, and using various symbols, tools, and objects to enact a
particular sort of socially recognizable identity.”
The self is immersed within
particular discourses that constructs and construes it.
6.5
My role as practitioner researcher: Birth of the bricoleur
After months in conducting research that draws on action research, I was still very
much in the dark about my exact role and identity. Initially, I conceived research as
a series of discrete decisions based on fundamental choices that ultimately would
lead the research project forward: Would this research be a qualitative or
quantitative project? What would I be trying to answer in my research? How do I
improve my practice? Have I read enough on the subject? What methodology
would enable me to best answer my research question/s? What method/s is/are
available to collect data within my particular setting more effectively? Are there
any financial or technical requirements or constraints? Who will be participating in
this research project? Are there any ethical issues involved in conducting this
research project? Questions of this sort were very much similar to the ones action
research theorists suggest to prospective action researchers in their section “Getting
ready for action” (McNiff, Lomax and Whitehead: 2003: 73-95).
At that time, I was not satisfied with the technician metaphor (Zeichner and Liston,
1996), acting without thinking, enacting a conditioned response to a stimulus, a sort
of “a reflex action such as a knee-jerk” (Steiner, 1991: 163). For ultimately, the
technical approach to thinking about teaching and by extension, to conduct research,
is “inadequate,” “very limited” and “an ineffectual way to solve educational
problems” (Zeichner and Liston, 1996: 4).
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Therefore, I was in dire need of a more powerful metaphor for my role and
conceptualisation as a researcher. Before conducting my research, I had done a
thorough analysis of the different methods and methodologies that were used in
similar researches (vide Chapter 6, Table 6.2). Hence, I was able to identify a series
of aspects that at the time I considered as positive to emulate. However, I ended up
with a set of seemingly disperate attempts without what I felt was a coherent model.
Initially, I was making small paces with a reconnaissance of the context. I was
experimenting with different methods and techniques, learning how to improve
upon them for future use, especially the second cycle. Some moves were even
negotiated with my student-teachers, and some methods or reflective tasks were
even specifically suggested by them.
Mid-way through the first cycle, I doubted my exact role and raison d’être. I was
debating with my supervisor different orientations and horizon of possibilities. To
be more precise, I was anxiously looking for some overarching name or metaphor
for my practice. I was frantically searching for a name that would in a sense justify
and reinvigorate my practice. Finally, when in September 2005 I was attending the
BERA Annual Conference organised at the University of Glamorgan, Wales, I came
across a newly published book by Joe Kincheloe and Kathleen Berry (2004) with an
intriguing title Rigour and Complexity in Educational Research: Conceptualizing
the Bricolage. I was working within a complex environment and aiming at a
rigorous research. However, what did the French word ‘bricolage’ have to do with
them?
The terms bricolage and bricoleur were popularised in qualitative research by
Denzin and Lincoln (2005) who used them to define the action/product and the
prime player of qualitative research.
Whilst conceding that “[t]he qualitative
researcher may be described using multiple and gendered images”, they demonstrate
a predilection for “a bricoleur, as a maker of quilts, or, as in filmmaking, a person
who assembles images into montages” (Denzin and Lincoln, 2005: 4).
They
identified at least five kinds of bricoleurs: interpretative, narrative, theoretical,
political and methodological. The interpretative bricoleur produces a bricolage, that
141
is: “A pieced-together set of representations that are fitted to the specifics of a
complex situation… that changes and takes new forms as the bricoleur adds
different tools, methods, and techniques of representation and interpretation to the
puzzle” (Denzin and Lincoln, 2005: 4). Firstly, the bricoleur makes use of what is
readily at hand, and secondly, if necessary invents or constructs from ready-made
material, new tools or techniques to use within a particular setting or context. This
latter characteristic tallies with that used by Claude Lévi-Strauss (1966) in The
Savage Mind, and later critically picked up by Jacques Derrida (1978: 285), when,
paraphrasing the former, describes the bricoleur as:
someone who uses “the means at hand,” that is, the instruments he
finds at disposition around him, those which are already there, which
had not been especially conceived with an eye to the operation for
which they are to be used and one tries by trial and error to adapt
them, not hesitating to change them whenever it appears necessary,
or to try several of them at once, even if their form and their origin
are heterogenous (sic) –and so forth.
What strikes me most in this interpretation are the words “not hesitating”. I was
intrigued by this sort of methodological detachment that the qualitative researcher
must feel in order to ascribe the best fit method/s according to the reading of the
complex and ever evolving and unfolding context. Table 6.1 gathers some of the
characteristics that delineate a profile for my conceptualisation of bricolage and
bricoleur:
Table 6.1: My characteristics of bricolage and bricoleur
 Before being a theoretical concept or an ideal researcher’s image, the bricoleur is grounded in
my practice and experience finding my way/s through the meandering roads of qualitative
research for the first time.
 The bricoleur takes his/her positioning (subjectivity) in a web of discourses as a point of
departure in any inquiry. It is the bricoleur’s task to uncover and unravel the influence and
power exerted by particular discourses on individuals within a context.
 The bricoleur, aware of the inherent limitations of singular stance, searches for connections and
relationships between different forms of knowledge (situated knowledges), methods (multimethodological research) and disciplines (inter-disciplinarily) according to exigencies of the
context he/she is immersed in.
 The bricoleur is not discouraged by the complexity of his/her undertaking. The bricoleur tries
to find relations between different parts of inquiry.
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 Research methods within the hands of the bricoleur are the tools to construct and deconstruct
reality. Indeed, the bricolage is a manifestation of the eclecticism that the researcher and the
researched have undergone to interpret their lived experience. The eclecticism in data generated is
reflected in the fabrication of the final text.
 The bricoleur is always open to work with others who might contribute to an improved way of
understanding and representation of events. The bricoleur is well read in Western and nonWestern philosophy. In a certain way, the bricoleur is aware that given different tools of inquiry,
the result would be different.
based on
Hatton (1988); Honan (2004); Kincheloe (2001); and Kincheloe and Berry (2004)
6.6
Conclusion
Before the invention of the compass, travelling at sea was previously possible
during the night, by the close observation of the stars. In Maltese the polar star is
called ‘kewkbet is-safar’, literally ‘travelling star’.
These assumptions are my
guiding stars on the methodological journey I set out to embark upon. They reveal
my position or location within an ever-evolving seascape. Were I on land, these
postulates would be the signposts I have passed indicating where I have come from.
They are not enshrined in stone or chiselled in marble. I would rather liken these
assumptions to be scribbles in sand, that silently wait their own destiny… the arrival
of an ever bigger wave or stronger gale that would modify the contours of my
journey.
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CHAPTER 7
My project
7.1
Qualitative Research and Action Research
Whilst I recognise the value of both qualitative and quantitative research methods I
have come to this research with a predilection for qualitative research methods due
to personal circumstances and a number of epistemological convictions. One rather
decisive issue that got me really thinking was what kind of relationships I wanted to
establish during my research.
Since I valued and still cherish the personal
communication with different people who share their experiences within a
community of practice, I was very much inclined to opt for a qualitative design.
One further step forward occurred when I had to decide about a general framework
to position my research endeavour. I knew in advance that the research questions I
would like to tentatively answer would focus both on myself as a researcher – in line
with Jack Whitehead’s (1989; 2000) questions (vide Chapter 6, Section 6.2) – and
on my student-teachers as they were becoming novice teachers of literature.
7.1.1
Action Research
One of the main attractive attributes of action research is that it “directly addresses
the problem of the division between theory and practice” (Noffke and Somekh,
2005: 89). This bipolar distinction is short circuited when the researcher takes
active part in his/her own research. Notwithstanding that the researcher may at
times feel alone: “Action research is an enquiry by the self into the self, undertaken
in company with others acting as research participants and critical learning partners”
(McNiff and Whitehead, 2002: 15). Action research involves a dialectical process
of action and reflection, that ultimately bring about demonstrable change in many, if
not all, participants. Two related concepts required within an action research cycle
144
are planning one’s actions and time for observation.
These four stages –
observation, planning, acting and reflection – form part of the learning cycle, that
should be conceived similar to a spiral rather than a circle. When it comes to
reflection, there is no difference between the researcher and participants, all have
come together and reflect. Usually, reflection within an action research project
produces a series of other small actions that are aimed at fostering awareness of
one’s condition, identifying ways to move forward and develop ways of assessing
what was aimed for and what was actually achieved.
Action researchers see
knowledge as something they create together rather than finding it somewhere out
there. Therefore, the encounters with others are viewed as an opportunity to share
experiences and create knowledge together. Hence, action research is a powerful
method to research within a community, like my University.
7.2
My research design: An overview
The following are a number of aspects related to my research design.
7.2.1
The sample or cohort
Since I am a full-time Assistant Lecturer within the Faculty of Education, University
of Malta, I conducted research within my own institution. The research was spread
over two consecutive academic years 2003-2004 and 2004-2005 with two different
groups of prospective teachers of Maltese at secondary level in their third year of a
four year B.Ed.(Hons.) teacher training course. A very common trend within the
Maltese education system is that pupils move from secondary to a two year postsecondary college, also known as Sixth Form, at the age of sixteen, and then
immediately enrol at university at the age of eighteen. Therefore, at the time of
research the participants were around 21-22 years old. There were nine third year
student-teachers in 2003-2004 followed by ten student-teachers in 2004-2005. The
gender distribution follows the general trend within the languages, that is slowly
becoming a gendered profession.
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Table 7.1: Gender distribution according to the different cycles
Female students
Male students
Total number of
students
First cycle
Academic year
2003-2004
7
2
Second cycle
Academic year
2004-2005
10
0
9
10
Total number of
students in both
cycles
17
2
19
These nineteen students specialised in two subject areas, both considered of equal
importance. The following is the second subject specialisation of the students
participating in the research: Art (1 student); Music (1 student); Spanish (1 student);
History (2 students); Home Economics (2 students); French (3 students); German (4
students); Personal and Social Education (5 students).
Certain subjects do not
feature in the list due to particular restrictions that are imposed by the Faculty of
Education. The total number of students in the different cycles could have been
slightly different since one student that enrolled for the first cycle had to suspend her
studies for one year since she did not obtain a ‘Pass’ in her English proficiency test;
she later managed to obtain this prerequisite and joined the second group.
In Table 7.2 I offer profiles of each individual with reference to: social background,
reading habits, values, aspirations, feelings, attitudes, memorable quote or
contribution, and the like. Hopefully, describing some of their particularity one gets
a glimpse of those features that shaped the research process, and had an effect on the
degree of appropriation of pedagogical skills inspired by reader-response to teach
Maltese literature in a secondary school for the first time. These differences can
serve as contextualising features of their responses and stances.
Table 7.2: Participant profiles
Pseudonym
Priscilla
Profile and description
A responsible student and a hard worker. A serious student who liked very much to
participate in discussions and presentations. A joy to have her in my lectures since
she would be the one to ask the most difficult questions. Very supportive of her
peers and always had an encouraging word to her students. Among her favourite
books one finds The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Conan Doyle and Colleen
McCullough’s The Thorn Birds. But her romantic vein is most evident when she
chose Danielle Steel’s sentence from Summer’s End as a memorable quote, “They
didn’t need words; they had each other in a world where time had stopped.” Indeed,
if she had to write a book, it would definitely be a romantic novel.
146
James
From a very young age his reading habits revolved around football. He did not
venture far from the school canon of Maltese literature. The Bible would be the
book he would save before Armageddon. Notwithstanding being rather laid back
during lectures, when asked, he used to provide poignant comments. He used to
find it hard to write at length; indeed his responses in the reflective tasks were rather
short compared to the rest of his peers. He wrote his first ever poem to his girlfriend
and shared it with the group during the one-day seminar.
Carla
Positive personality. While giving the impression of being very strong, coming
from a rural family, once one gets to know her one immediately becomes aware of
how fragile and emotional she can be in reality. Her favourite author was Danielle
Steel. Very serious in her work; gave great detail to the presentation of each and
every task. Indeed, a turning point in her academic year was when she obtained a
‘not satisfactory’ in one of her visits (she went on to pass her teaching practice), but
that blemish changed her drastically. After her teaching practice experience, she
became very doubtful of herself, and suspicious of and verging on the cynical about
the relevance of theory/practice at University. However, towards the end of
academic year with the help of her peers she overcame that emotional stress. Had
she to write a novel, she would address it to introverted people in need of help and
who do not know how to give voice to their turmoil.
Samantha
A goal oriented person and very much in touch with her emotional side. She
cherishes her memories of her school days, with school outings and prize days as her
most memorable ones. Apart from Maltese authors, she liked reading Enid Blyton
and C. S. Lewis. She became acquainted with one of her mottos in life, when just
fourteen, after reading a notice in the school’s assistant head’s office: “The trouble
with not having a goal is that you can spend you life running up and down the field
and never score”. As a reader she likens herself to being sensitive and curious,
jumping quickly to the last few pages to know the end, before carrying on with the
book. During lectures she liked to participate and share her experiences, while
being also a very good listener.
Ilona
Rather shy and reserved. Had the habit of writing Maltese poetry. When
encouraged, she managed to write a poem in English and have it published in an
anthology in the United States. Apart from the usual local authors, she preferred
reading Graham Green, Charles Dickens and Emily Bronte (Weathering Heights
was read a couple of times with similar joy). Very close to her mother who
supported her incessantly. She would recommend the Bible for politicians to read in
their free time. Down to earth as she was, in her reading history she claimed: “I
believe that each and every teacher of literature should be an avid reader of
literature, but the die hard truth is, that very, very few do indeed literature”. She
could be considered a novice poet with the passion for teaching what she loves
most… literature.
Marika
Diligent. Perfectionist. Motivated. Hard-working. Proud to be the first prize
winner for Maltese at post-secondary level for her year. This lucky streak goes back
to her primary school years when in year five she won a prize for best composition.
Her confidence was boosted further the subsequent year when she played in the
school concert. No wonder she wanted to become a teacher. Working within this
engaging environment was her dream from a very early age. Christian values
permeate her life, with the book she read most often and with pleasure being: Your
Faith. Her love for Maltese and teaching came together during her first teaching
practice, as was evident in one of her reflections: “I took teaching very seriously,
failure was not an option from the very start!”
147
Belinda
A born creative person! Always willing to participate with wealth of experiences
and reflections. A passionate reader of Maltese children’s literature. She adorned
her reflections with photos of her school days. The book that left most impression
on her was Agony and Ecstasy by Irving Stone, an account of the tribulations of
Michelangelo. In personal significance she compares The Story of Art by E. H.
Gombrich to the Bible! In her hands, even a simple lesson plan or section separators
in her teaching practice file would be presented in a creative fashion. In more than
one way, a resourceful and hard-working student-teacher. While finding the new
methods for teaching literature enticing, she was uncertain how these would be
adopted by students in secondary classrooms. During her training, one of her aims
as a teacher was to design creative lessons that meet students’ needs and interests.
Indeed, in class she had a fleur for teaching, that emerged more confidently as time
went by, especially after receiving reassuring comments from her examiners and
positive feedback by her students.
Cleo
Bridging between theory and practice was somewhat difficult for her. The marriage
between her life in school and insights from literature ended up to be more similar to
pastiche rather than to an ensemble of a coherent and sustained critical reflection.
She used to work through the reflective tasks as if the prompts were an interview
questions. Did not take too much initiative, feeling rather insecure at times,
especially since she had rather weak orthography. This attitude reflected itself
during lectures… she hardly ever participated in the discussions, and when asked to
supply an example to explain what she claimed to have understood, most probably
than not, she would remain embarrassingly silent.
Luigi
A very industrious and humble student-teacher but with evident pedagogical and
content knowledge limitations. The role of his diary was mainly to regurgitate or
paraphrase the lecture. This obviously was pointed out many a times, coupled with
strategies to improve his writing, but the message seemed never to push through.
Struggled throughout the study-unit to finish on time all his work; with special
concessions having to be agreed upon from time to time. Complacent to the level of
being exasperating. Found great difficulty to appropriate and contextualise the
relevant pedagogical skills inspired from principles drawn form reader-response
rather than the tried and tested formulas or magic recipes. The short-circuit between
practice and reflection meant he found it difficult in learning from experience, thus
the process of self-improvement hardly every found its way.
Gianna
A meticulous student-teacher. Rather shy, and participated sparingly during
discussions, preferring the comfort and security of group work. On the other hand,
rather sincere in her diary like when she complained about having to come to
University on a Thursday during teaching practice, and the fact that she was already
giving her utmost and the lecturer during a conference was trying to push them to
identify further areas for improvement. When compared to her peers, she had a
broad knowledge of literature, having read the classics. This gave her insights that
sounded strange to her peers but angel’s music to my ears. At last, a true reader.
Julie
An attentive and articulate student-teacher, with a passion for languages. Very
ambitious; she was the one to ask about a Masters while still reading an
undergraduate course. Calm and with a positive outlook, resolute to succeed during
teaching practice. A person eager to put into practice what she heard, read about and
experimented with, at University. Apart from reading practically anything written in
the foreign language she was specialising in at University, travelling seemed to be
another dear hobby of hers. A very sensitive person to her students’ needs, as was
very well demonstrated during teaching practice.
148
Mia
A student-teacher with great potential but for some reason did not seem to make her
own ideas presented during the lectures. Being rather diffident about how these
novel ideas propel change in the education system and most importantly, bring about
change on an individual level. She acted rather passively during lectures, dismissive
of most that was explained. I believe she would be one of those student-teachers
that try to please her examiners during teaching practice but than do differently once
the ‘cat’ is away. A very sociable person and an unacknowledged leader.
Cecilia
A very reserved person, if not an introvert. During lectures one hardly ever hears her
express her thoughts. Then in a secondary school classroom she would be
transformed into this completely different person… a real orchestrator of lively
activities with her students. At the time of my research, her family was a very
powerful influence in her life. These extreme personalities resurfaced in her reading
interests: as a devout Christian she would definitely save the Holy Bible if all the
books were to perish, but then, Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code, left a lasting
impression on her. Likes to work with her best friend rather than on her own or
within a large group.
Suzanne
Had her profile been an adjective list… and only an adjective list… it would be
something like this: Competent, optimistic, honest, bright, kind, dependable, helpful,
courteous, imaginative, sincere and quite… probably in that order too!
Anne
While lacking in self-confidence and acting very cautiously, she definitely liked the
challenge of new reader-response inspired ideas. She was very critical about the
way she was taught literature, thus her commitment to change and total
experimentation with innovative methods during teaching practice. She preferred
traditional Maltese literature and found it hard to venture on her own and read new
material. Her reading habits were a direct and unmistakable result of schools’
literary canon. She was torn between her love for Maltese and the newly found
passion for her foreign language. If she had to write a book it would certainly be a
romantic novel. Meticulous, industrious, very emotional, reliable… all these
adjectives describe her character probably more than she would openly admit to
herself.
Victoria
If most student-teachers tend to become anxious and tense just when teaching
practice approaches, alas, she would be the one living in a permanent state of
anxiety. Everything seems to be a source of stress for her, especially keeping a
reflective diary and trying to meet deadlines. Most probably, this character trait
hindered her from enjoying fully a special period in her life that of setting the first
steps in becoming a teacher of literature. Notwithstanding this outlook, she used to
empathise a lot with her students, mainly because she sees in them her own past and
present tribulations. I think she was only fair when she unequivocally stated that
this study-unit involved too much work when compared to the amount of credit
value.
Kim
A well organised, conscientious and respectful student-teacher. While giving the
impression of being very calm and carefree, actually she was very much like a
petard waiting to be ignited, nervous and panicky. During lectures, a simple
introductory question would be enough to show her true emotions and heartfelt
thoughts and opinions on education in general and teaching Maltese. Always frank
and fair in her comments. She never complained too much about the amount of
work assigned for she understood the rationale behind it even if ultimately it was
either ill-timed or boring (one of her favourite adjectives). She was always eager to
share with peers and students her love for teaching, especially literature. Apart from
her family, she had a great love towards all animals.
149
Ella
A timid and modest student-teacher with not so high expectations for herself.
Always in need of emotional support and groaning about how much work needed to
be done. A keen observer of school life, identifying and reflecting upon details that
would easily go unnoticed to many. Her preoccupation with discipline ultimately
hindered her from enjoying life in school to the maximum. Indeed much work
related to teaching practice – developing primarily a portfolio – was considered as
an added burden to her. Pedagogy for her was a list of methods, some more creative
than others, to be used sparingly in schools if one does not want to compromise
classroom management. Rarely opened her mouth during lectures, and it was very
difficult to ask her questions since she evidently did not like being put on centre
stage.
Allison
Easily bored with even the newest of ideas. Nothing impresses her. Acted as if she
knew it all or heard about it already somewhere else. Rather cynical about the
effectiveness not only of reader-response but worst still, of teacher training in
general. She needed to be encouraged to do everything, and deadlines were her one
and only motivator. She felt content with being an average student-teacher. Her
famous quote, in relation to formative assessment, ‘Isn’t this your job?!’
7.2.2
The study-unit
Since the B.Ed.(Hons.) course basically follows a two-plus-two model (the first two
years ‘subject content’ and the final two years ‘education’) their subject
methodology study-units actually commence in their third year.
Apart from
Educational Studies (Philosophy, Sociology and Psychology) each individual
subject has a total of eight subject-specific methodology study-units, distributed as
four study-units in the third year, with the remaining four in their fourth year. The
study-unit I monitored – ‘The Literary Experience in the Secondary School’ – forms
part of the Maltese specialisation methodology core study-units, is delivered during
the third year of the course, and is spread over two semesters with a total number of
28 hours contact/lecturing hours. Table 7.3 presents a schematised version of what
took place during those 28 hours. There are some differences between the first and
second cycles that are indicated with a symbol, and the months on the bottom part
are only an approximate indication of when activities actually took place.
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A journal
entry at
least once
a week for
the
duration
of the
study-unit
What would you like? A self addressed letter
Reading history I – Early memories
Reading history II –Your literary tastes
Reading history III –What type of reader have
you become
Reasons for teaching literature at secondary
school
A description of a traditional literature lesson
My first literature lesson
Why did you want to become a teacher?
The influence of a teacher
Metaphorical images of a teacher of literature
Looking at yourself as a teacher of literature
Designing a literature syllabus
Choosing a literary text
 The (ir)relevance of literature
 Towards a personal definition of literature
teaching of Maltese literature?
 The anxiety of theory
 Does literary theory liberate or stifle the













Reflective Tasks 2
All summaries-comments were
collected and assessed
The first 4 summaries-comments
were collected and given feedback
on how they could be improved
upon
Participants negotiated a threshold
of one article/ chapter response
every fortnight
Comments on Selected Articles
from Reading Pack 3
Participants were provided with a
manual on the portfolio to read in
advance.
First conference on the portfolio.
Participants were assigned in a
secondary school for a six week block
teaching practice
During teaching practice, participants
were asked to collate a portfolio.
Participants attended two conferences
during teaching practice and one
conference before submitting their
portfolio.
On-line discussion on the criteria for
the rubric that would assess the
portfolio.
Participants self-assess and peerassess their portfolio
Teaching Practice Portfolio 4
Test
Test 5
A c. 45min. in-depth
structured interview
A 20 min. to 30 min.
interview
Interview 6
2
151
The main difference was that the first group kept their journal during teaching practice, while the second group had an exception during that period.
There was a slight difference in the sequence of reflective tasks between the first and second group due to a different emphasis during the study-unit.
3
The first group did not have this item as standard practice, only the second group filled in 25 responses.
4
The Teaching Practice Portfolio focusing on the teaching of Maltese literature at secondary level from cycle one to cycle two, evolved to better respect the formative nature of the
task. The peer-assessment was only introduced with the second group. A conference/focus group interview was held every fortnight for the duration of teaching practice.
5
The test was an activity conducted only with the first group. Other forms of assessment, mirroring an assessment for learning philosophy, were introduced with the second group.
6
The in-depth interview was conducted twice with the first group, at the beginning and at the end, and only once towards the end of the study-unit with the second group since initially
I laid greater emphasis on their reading history reflective writing tasks.
1
Jun.
May
Apr.
Mar.
Feb.
Jan.
Dec.
Nov.
Oct.
Student’s
Journal 1
Table 7.3: An overview of the data generating experiences for the two groups
7.2.3
The field
The binary opposite ‘theory/practice’ can be amplified and exemplified in another
related binary opposite ‘methodology/field’. The positive connotations of ‘the field’
might go back to when we used to go with our Biology teacher on a ‘field trip’.
Packed lunches, singing on the coach, valleys, rubble walls, trees, plants, flowers,
sunshine, clouds, rain, wind… and above all, jokes between the enthusiastic
‘fieldworkers’, pushed by their preoccupied teacher to take ‘field notes’ on their
‘fieldwork’. What a difference from the impersonal walls of the classroom where
most of the time teaching (not learning) took place. (I like to think that Milan
Kundera might have coined the title of his novel Life is Elsewhere (1973/2000) at
school!)
However, the distinction between methods/practice is perpetrated in such an all
embracing methods textbook (eg. Somekh and Lewin, 2005b). Each chapter is
written in a way as to present two discrete but interrelated aspects: ‘The key
concepts section’ followed by ‘The stories from the field’ section. This is the
editor’s description of the scope and writing style of ‘the stories from the field’
section, extrapolated from the ‘Introduction’:
…provide a narrative account of carrying out a research study using
this specific methodology or method. They are accounts ‘from the
inside’ revealing the complexity and fascination of carrying out
research and dispelling any notion that there is one right way to be
followed. In most cases they reveal how and why decisions about
the research design were taken, describe the experience of carrying
out the work, including some of the problematic issues that arose and
how they were addressed, and reflect on the way in which knowledge
and understanding developed. Alternatively, in a few cases they
provide a vivid description of the research issues and outcomes in a
form of reporting appropriate to the methodology concerned.
(Somekh and Lewin, 2005b: xiii)
However, these intentions are critically read by Erica Burman and Maggie MacLure
(2005: 287) in their chapter collected in the same book: “‘the field’ is no less a
textualized, power-infused space than that of theory, though its contours are
different.”
They carry on making the case by unpacking/deconstructing the
title/concept itself:
152
‘Stories from the field’ seems oddly modernist and objectivist, the
agricultural metaphor suggestive of the discourse of data flourishing
‘out there’ (where? anywhere that is not ‘here’, perhaps?), awaiting
collection like ripe fruit [….] ‘stories from the field’ seems a suspect
activity, replete with gendered, age and colonial relations.
(ibid. p. 287)
I agree with Burman and MacLure’s (2005) analysis. To a certain extent, my field
is a very typical arena not very much different from other lecture room situations in
England. On the other hand, I have become very suspicious of the romanticised
vision of the lecture room, or have re-elaborated the concept to better reflect my
vision: a battlefield or arena. Stratagems and strategies, power relationships, gender
issues, deadlines, ultimatums, working under duress, mediations and negotiations,
hidden and overt agendas, cold wars, and interrogations to mention just a few, all
form part of the conceptual map of the classroom as battlefield metaphor.
Everything takes place at the University of Malta. The academic year commences
in October and reaches its completion in late May/early June of the following year,
spread over eight to nine months; one cannot but notice the fearful symmetry with
the human gestation period. The academic year is divided into two semesters, with
one hour lecture per week. During the second semester, between February and
April of their third year, student teachers are assigned to secondary schools for the
teaching practice for six weeks, thus the remaining lectures are of two hours
duration. During teaching practice some lecturers, usually subject co-ordinators,
organise a number of support group-like tutorials.
Within this context, the mere “collection” of data seems to be devoid of the
intentional deliberate component; therefore I prefer a more value-laden active verb
“generation” within the more precise phrase: ‘data generating experiences.’
153
7.2.4
My personal understanding of data generating experiences, alias
methods
“We [practitioner researchers] aren’t outsiders peering from the shadows into the
classroom, but insiders responsible to the students whose learning we document”
(Zeni, 2001: 154). Responsibility and documentation may be considered as two
essential components of tactful research design. Indeed, emphasis is laid upon the
mindful selection of method or methods (vide McNiff, Lomax and Whitehead,
2003).
Suggestions abound and the novice researcher is overwhelmed by the
plethora of methods and their possible combinations.
Methods are at times
considered as an add-on feature to the research process as if they were just a tool.
Furthermore: “Research which is ‘method-led’ can be uneconomical, inappropriate
and unjustifiably biased” (Goodson and Sikes, 2001: 21).
My understanding of research methods is informed by M. C. Wittrock’s (1979;
1991) research on text comprehension, and more philosophically, on one aspect of
Paulo Freire’s (1997) liberation pedagogy. Both of them happen to use the word
‘generative’ in particular nonetheless complimentary ways.
Resorting to their
definition will only elucidate my personal understanding of
the term ‘data
generating experiences.’
Research methods are part of the teaching/learning process, to the extent that one
cannot distinguish between what has happened and how it was documented. The
word generative refers to the construction of knowledge in a dialogical way. The
research on generative teaching contends “that comprehension depends directly on
what students generate and do during instruction” (Wittrock, 1991: 169). Data
generating experiences therefore aim at challenging one’s preconceptions and
beliefs, exploring new possibilities, and finally end up with a coherent new
knowledge or experience. Some of the benefits of the generative teaching are that
students develop metacognitive skills whilst they are engaged in their own learning
without the need for additional time or equipment (Wittrock, 1991). Hence teaching
and learning become a way to facilitate knowledge construction.
154
To comprehend instruction, students invent new models and
explanations or use or revise old models and explanations to organize
new information into coherent wholes that make sense to them and
are consonant with their experience and knowledge. Generation
includes the processes of relating individual events and ideas
presented in class and relating instruction to knowledge and
experience.
(Wittrock, 1991: 176)
Likewise, data generating experiences develop self-reflective critical thinking
without particular and significant modifications to the teaching/learning process.
Students become responsible for their own learning. Indeed, the data generating
experiences need to be as unobtrusive as possible such as not to condition,
contaminate, modify, or in any way alter the natural setting and flow of events.
While student-teachers are generating the data they are becoming more aware of
their own motivations, perceptions, beliefs and knowledge. Finally, “generative
teaching focuses on teachers’ responsibility for getting students to generate new
meanings or understandings by revising their preconceptions” (Wittrock, 1991:
179).
My conceptualisation of data generating experiences, alias methods, is very much
similar to Freire’s (1997: 83) concept of “generative themes” because “they contain
the possibility of unfolding into again as many themes, which in their turn call for
new tasks to be fulfilled.” Freire (1997: 78) is convinced that generative themes are
endowed with richness, significance, plurality and transformations, with a historical
composition.
Similarly, I believe that data generating experiences produce an
intricate web of meaning-charged information that brings along change in those that
metaphorically speaking, weave or fabricate it. Performing a top-down analysis,
Freire (1997: 84-85) demonstrates how generative themes move from the general to
the particular, as if located in concentric circles: the broadest circle would be the
epochal unit which contains universal themes, and within the smaller circles one
would find the limit-situations characteristic of societies which, in turn, are
subdivided into other sub-themes. “Thematic investigation thus becomes a common
striving towards awareness of reality and towards self-awareness, which makes this
investigation a starting point for the educational process or of cultural action of a
155
liberating character” (Freire, 1997: 88). To achieve such a goal, Freire (1997)
suggests a methodology of conscientização, consisting of a problem-posing
education (the investigation of generative themes contained in the minimum
thematic universe), which is a critical form of thinking about the world. Likewise,
data generating experiences are not simply tools in the hand of the researcher but an
empowering and liberating experience in the hands of the students “to investigate
people’s thinking about reality and people’s action upon reality, which is their
praxis” (Freire, 1997: 87). Most of the data generating experiences I used were
intended to prompt and guide students in: “Producing and acting upon their own
ideas – not consuming those of others…” (Freire, 1997: 89).
7.3
Data generating experiences in practice
To overcome the inherent limitation of any data generating experience on its own, I
planned, enacted and documented a number of different activities around the same
event or issue, that when taken together act as a basis for “triangulation,” that is
different data sources that can be “cross-validated” or “shed light on each other”
(Somekh and Lewin, 2005a: 349). The first distinction around data was the source:
myself as the lecturer/researcher, and my nineteen student-teachers. The different
data generating experiences can be further categorised in two broad groups
depending if they ultimately generated oral texts (later on, selectively transcribed
and translated for further analysis) or written texts, as shown in Table 7.4.
Table 7.4: Data generating experiences
Data generating experiences that produce…
Oral texts
Written texts
 Pre- and Post- study-unit interview
 Focus group interviews/Conference
 My personal research diary
 Student-teachers’ journal
 Reflective task, that inspire personal
accounts and/or critical incidents
 Documents
The different data generating experiences were aimed at documenting the lived
experiences around the study-unit ‘The Literary Experience in Secondary School.’
156
7.3.1
My research diary and student-teachers’ reflective diaries
My personal research diary naturally was my weekly or fortnightly commitment for
at least two years.
“Research journals” (Borg, 2001; Thomas, 1995) can be
considered as a written document where the researcher keeps a record of the
different experiences and reflections on them throughout the duration of a research
period. It is also known as: “Project journal” (White, 1988); “Personal-professional
journal” (Holly, 1989); “Action research journal” (Oberg, 1990); and “Reflective
log” (Bridges, 1999). I found this experience rather difficult, especially if I did not
write immediately after the session. But I made it a point to write/type at least a
page, and identify one critical incident.
My experience helped me to better understand my student-teachers’ version of a
diary, known as “Weekly/daily log” (Holly, 1989); “Project journal” (White, 1985);
“Personal notebook” (Fulwiler, 1987); “Lecture journal” (Moon, 1999); “Learning
journals” (Moon, 1999); and “Think-place/think-book” (NCTE in Fulwiler, 1987).
The research on the validity of a reflective diary by student-teachers at tertiary level
in diverse fields is extensively documented especially the positive effects on the
quality of reflective writing (vide Francis, 1995; Parks, 2003; Morrison, 1996;
Spalding and Wilson, 2002; Thorpe, 2004). Student-teachers were encouraged to
keep a reflective journal throughout their study-unit; with a short suspension during
teaching practice with the second cohort. I used to gather their journal each term to
prompt further reflection and guide their reflective writing process by suggesting
other possibilities.
I specifically selected at times lengthy quotations from a number of studentteachers: “to understand some of the complexities, complications, and confusions
within the life of just one member of a community is to gain insights into the
collective”; or as expressed slightly differently “every in-depth exploration of an
individual life-in-context brings us that much closer to understanding the
complexities of lives in context” (Cole and Knowles, 2001: 11). What was intensely
felt among an array of experiences is brought to the forefront. For this reason, while
157
both voices and sources are drawn upon, as much as possible the student-teachers’
voice is preferred and commented upon at length.
7.3.2
Reflective Tasks
While in Part III I use profusely and liberally data from the two diaries, I cannot
underestimate the other major source for the whole research: the twenty reflective
tasks. Reflective tasks were a way to infuse reflective principles and practice in my
practice. They were aimed at focusing student-teachers’ attention on a specific
aspect of the issue of becoming teachers of literature. Table 7.5 gathers the different
reflective tasks that were devised, implemented or discarded with the two cohorts;
the texts of the reflection tasks can be found also in Appendix A.
Table 7.5: A list of reflective tasks devised and used in different cycles
Focus
2003-2004
1
Personal
Reading
History
Reading History I – Early Memories
Reading History II – Your literary
preferences
Reading History III – What type of
reader are you?
Reasons for teaching literature at
secondary school – A questionnaire
2
3
4
5
6
Literature
Syllabus
Designing a literature syllabus
Choosing a literary text(book)
The
Literature
Teacher
Why did you want to become a
teacher?
The influence of a teacher
7
8
9
10
11
12
Looking at yourself as a teacher of
literature
Literary
Theory
and
Literature
The anxiety of theory
Does theory liberate or stifle teaching
Maltese literature?
The (ir)relevance of literature
Towards a personal definition of
literature
158
13
2004-2005
What would you like? A self
addressed letter
Reading History I – Early Memories
Reading History II – Your literary
preferences
Reading History III – What type of
reader are you?
Reasons for teaching literature at
secondary school – A questionnaire
A description of a traditional
literature lesson
My first literature lesson
Designing a literature syllabus
Choosing a literary text(book)
Why did you want to become a
teacher?
The influence of a literature teacher
Metaphorical images of a teacher of
literature
Looking at yourself as a teacher of
literature
14
15
16
17
Towards a personal definition of
literature
These reflective tasks were designed and aimed at stimulating reflective learning
and guiding reflection, for as Jennifer Moon (1999: 171) concludes: “if reflection is
to be guided, the structure of a task provides the best guide for reflection.” The
major difference between journal writing and reflective tasks is the degree of
guidance set to the writing.
A reflective task is guided in both structure and
parameters. The aim of the reflective tasks was to encourage student-teachers to
reflect on an issue beyond the time limit or constraints of a lecture. The studentteacher might experiment with different genres and writing styles. An overview of
the different reflective tasks demonstrates that students were asked to answer in a
traditional essay form in nearly half of them (RT 6, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15). But
there was also a conscious effort to experiment in writing different genres, mainly: a
memoir (RT 2, 3, 4, 7); a report (RT 8, 9); fill in a questionnaire (RT 5); a definition
(RT 17); a defence or apologia (RT 17); and letter writing (RT 1). Moreover,
student teachers were asked and encouraged to complement their writing with
different artefacts like book cover scans, photographs, etc. Student-teachers were
encouraged to produce material that moved beyond mere recollections or opinions,
like conducting research to substantiate their point of view and challenge existing
beliefs. One issue that always cropped up was assessment matters concerning
reflective tasks, such as whether these should be assessed and possibly how and by
whom they would be assessed; two issues which are very much an open debate
among researchers.
Another ‘reflective task’ even if not under considered as one in Table 7.4, was
written comments on selected articles from their reading pack. The second cohort
student-teachers were provided at the start of the study-unit with a two-page
template that guided their reflections when writing a comment on a text from their
pack, consisting of:
 Their selected quote from the text.
 Any questions raised during or after you read this book / chapter / article;
 What do you feel you understood very well?
 What did you not understand?
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 A specific experience from your past as student of Maltese literature or during
your teaching practice that sheds particular light on insights gained reading this
text.
The aim behind such a task was not to obtain a disjointed summary or to uncritically
embrace in toto the read texts, what Michael Apple (1993: 61) names as ‘dominant’
reading of a text. The main aim was to have student-teachers respond to the texts in
either: ‘a negotiated’ manner, that is, “dispute a particular claim, but accept the
overall tendencies or interpretations of a text”; or read and respond to the texts in
‘an oppositional’ way, that is rejecting the dominant ideologies and orientations
(Apple, 1993: 61). On a practical level, student-teachers were encouraged to bring
along the completed sheets and have a short discussion around them every month or
so, in a small group. As I read through the first examples, I noticed that their major
difficulty was the new terminology they encountered, later confirmed by studentteachers. From then onwards, this lack of knowledge instigated a sort of impromptu
mini-lecture (5 to 10 minutes) on one or two key-words.
7.3.3 Documents
My research considered a number of documents where generated throughout this
study-unit. Documents can be considered as original and authentic material, having
a direct bearing on a research problem, especially in the reconstruction process of an
event or particular historical context (Hammersley and Atkinson, 1983). Drawing
on historical research, documents might be divided into two categories: primary
sources (documents that pertain to an era or event, or those items that had a direct
relationship with an event); and secondary sources (which do not have a direct
relationship with an event).
The following are a few examples of pertinent documents: emails sent to studentteachers; the test paper set for the first cohort; study-unit description; The Portfolio
Guidebook for Student-Teachers Teaching Maltese Literature During their First
Teaching Practice at Secondary School (Portelli, 2004); result sheet; programmes
set for the literary morning event; charts with different themes; photographs taken
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during the various events; drawing/painting; teaching practice report books;
university official code/policy; seminar programme; films and videos watched
during the different lectures.
7.3.4
Individual interviews and focus group conferences
The oral text data generating experiences were the most time consuming and with
hindsight, the least used and the least I drew upon in my analysis. Oral texts were
the result of my effort to have a kind of joint data gathering experience: the
individual pre- and post- study-unit interviews, and focus group interviewing or
possibly better described as conferences since most of the time they rotated around
portfolio construction. On the other hand, they provided me with the necessary feel
of what had happened, what were the hot issues, and the student-teachers’
perception of things at the start and end of study-unit. Thus, I used the oral texts
rather sparingly, and usually as a living source of inspiration of what happened years
back.
7.3.5
The process of data reduction
One of the many problems any action research project faces is to estimate which
data would be valuable at a later stage when analysing it. Theoretically, methods
and techniques are to be adopted according to one’s research questions (vide
Chapter 1).
However, working in the field tends to be very unpredictable.
Therefore, since I did not know the quality of student-teachers’ responses to the
designed Reflective Tasks (vide Appendix A) and other activities, initially I decided
to cast as wide a net as possible, with the adoption of a battery of data generating
experiences.
Indeed, two strong proponents of action research, McNiff and
Whitehead (2002: 94; my emphasis), contend that: “you [the researcher] will gather
quantities of data, much of which will later be discarded”. Indeed, in the beginning
“it is important not to reject anything that might count later as valuable data”
(McNiff and Whitehead, 2002: 94). The size and range of qualitative data at times
can make the analysis “daunting” (Namey, Guest, Thairu and Johnson, 2007: 173).
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On the other hand, only during the research process I became aware of and made my
own, David Silverman’s (2005: 123) advice to the novice-researcher, to choose
“simplicity and rigour rather than the often illusory search for the ‘full picture’”.
Hence, only in retrospect, when I had all the “promising data” (Whitehead and
McNiff, 2006: 64) in my hand, did I undergo what might be called, to borrow and
adapt a term for computer technology, ‘data reduction’. Indeed, analysis of large
qualitative data rarely involves all the data that had been collected; without any
doubt, “researchers need to delineate the boundaries of a given analysis” (Namey,
Guest, Thairu and Johnson, 2007: 139). According to Miles and Huberman (1994:
10) data reduction can be defined as: “the process of selecting, focusing,
simplifying, abstracting, and transforming the data that appear in written-up field
notes or transcriptions.” Furthermore, data reduction “is not something separate
from analysis. It is part of analysis” (Miles and Huberman, 1994: 10). Indeed, it is
the very first step of the analysis process in qualitative research (Miles and
Huberman, 1994: 10-11). The elimination of irrelevant data or the extraction of
relevant data is “arguably the simplest form of data reduction” (Namey, Guest,
Thairu and Johnson, 2007: 173). The aim behind such preliminary data reduction
process was “a form of analysis that sharpens, sorts, focuses, discards, and organizes
data in such a way that “final” conclusions can be drawn and verified” (Miles and
Huberman, 1994: 11).
One recommended form of data reduction is “selection” (Miles and Huberman,
1994: 11), a process whereby after pondering on the research questions and quality
of information at hand, the researcher makes the conscious and responsible decision
to minimise information.
In doing so, the researcher is actually increasing
efficiency of his/her data by setting aside any redundant information. This is a
crucial first step in a qualitative analysis process, especially when the information
from different sources is highly correlated, or in other words, practically saying the
same things but in different formats, oral and written (vide Table 7.3).
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Within my research design, the information gathered through pre- and postinterviews, as well as the few recordings from focus groups during conferences on
teaching practice, after careful thought were considered as not contributing anything
significantly relevant or new, when compared to personal and student-teachers’
written form of data. During and after interviews, not once did student-teachers
complain about the perceived duplication of work. Probably, the designed interview
schedules or goals for adopting this method, did not help in yielding a different
picture than the ones already recorded from other sources.
This was further
substantiated by the personal sensation while conducting the interviews and more
significantly so, when transcribing and rereading the interviews. I felt an ever
growing sense of déjà vu… undeniably, the same information was also present and
in greater detail in some of student-teachers’ responses to specific reflective tasks.
With regards to data from focus groups, student-teachers were rather stressed and
complained about having each and every single intervention recorded; thus the
intrusiveness of the conferences recordings played a decisive role in actions that
followed. One must also bare in mind the fact that teaching practice experience was
being documented by a number of Reflective Tasks in relation to their portfolio,
lesson evaluations and my research diary of events.
When I considered all these issues and arguments, especially the degree of overlap
between the data from different sources and student-teachers reasonable complaints,
it became quite straightforward to opt to analyse exclusively written data. This
decision was further substantiated by the realisation that the sources that were
ultimately considered, when taken together were well ‘articulated’ (Silverman,
2005: 153). In addition, the selected sources strongly corroborated each other, thus
they potentially could be considered as a valid form of ‘triangulation’ (Cohen,
Manion and Morrison, 2007: 141-144).
Furthermore, after the data reduction
process, I still envisioned the remaining data to extensively contribute to what Laura
Ellingson (2008) theorised as ‘crystallisation’, a methodological feature which
agrees very much with my exploration of a multi-genre approach to writing research
(vide Chapter 2).
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7.3.6
Dead ends, false starts and cul-de-sacs
Action Research tends to be neatly conceived as a spiral involving planning,
enactment, reflection and re-planning (eg. Kemmis and McTaggart, 1988). A neat
schematisation of my research project can be found in Table 7.2 summarising the
key data generating experiences and in Tables 8.4 and 8.5 where the content of the
study-unit is outlined and categorised. On the other hand, research tends to be rather
‘messy’ and unpredictable, features that rarely if ever find place in models. Armed
to their teeth as they may be, researchers know very well that a number of problems
will inexorably crop along the way or they will unwittingly enter cul-de-sacs. My
research project too had its fair share of false starts and dead ends.
7.3.6.1 Topics, discussions and issues
The list of topics evolved in relation not just of what I considered as minimum
knowledge and skills to familiarise and attain, but also student-teachers’ reactions to
the topics. There were times when what I found engaging, was practically boring or
irrelevant to them. One such example was the topic on the (ir)relevance of literary
theory to teaching of literature at secondary school. A lot of preparation went into
these lectures, only to later find student-teachers lacking the necessary theoretical
baggage. It was a disappointment that taught me the lesson that what I love I must
not necessarily teach! The following year, other more practical topics and activities
were identified and enacted.
On a more practical side, certain activities took longer to complete than I had
originally planned. Thus, content that was planned for one lecture had to shift for
the following week.
This problem was most acute during particular lively
discussions on censorship and the school canon. I would have missed a great
opportunity had I brought to an end these discussions, consciously sacrificing
certain content. I realised not too late the importance of being flexible and open to
what might emerge rather than scrupulously designed.
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7.3.6.2 Reading list and lack of academic reading
While a basic reading pack was provided at the start, student-teachers did not feel
motivated enough or consider it part of their duties to browse and possibly read
through the assigned chapters. Consequently, the level of participation in my view,
suffered a lot; many a times was reduced to just gut feelings and personal
experiences. I wanted my student-teachers to first feel responsible for their own
learning and second, find joy in reading academic writing pertinent to what we
discuss or I exposed during a sessions together… after all they were becoming
professionals.
The reading list for the study-unit was completely overhauled and updated from one
cycle to another, as a result of my burgeoning interest in reader-response theories
and research on teaching literature at secondary level (vide Chapter 8).
Furthermore, I had to think about a way of getting student-teachers to read the key
texts. Hence I developed a template where they could list particular details and
personal reflections. Even these two modifications were not devoid of problems.
Though I negotiated and reached an agreement with student-teachers to read at least
one chapter every fortnight, some of them simply procrastinated this task, and left
the filling in of the form to the very end… thus defeating (my?) purpose. Getting
student-teachers to read has remained a problem to this day.
7.3.6.3 Reflective Tasks , deadlines and feedback
Coupled with the reading template, I devised a number of Reflective Tasks to
accompany my lectures. In retrospect some were basically too difficult or abstract,
remote from the student-teachers’ immediate preoccupations. The level of guidance
of reflective tasks was difficult to predict in advance. As a result, the quality and
length of student-teachers’ response varied a lot. Even if I experimented with
various activities (vide Appendix A), I seem rarely to have hit the mark.
Agreed deadlines were not always met by my student-teachers. The process of
negotiation, while in place, did not always yield the desired effect. Some student-
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teachers always seem to fall behind others. At least they did not bother to find
creative excuses, they were sincere enough to share with me their other just as
important commitments… but definitely something had to give. While encouraging
student-teachers to be responsible, some interpreted and translated this constant flow
of work as living in a perennial state of examination stress.
While it was common practice to gather, read and report back with detailed
feedback within a week or two, it became really taxing on me to read through all
student-teachers’ writing. Coupled with the amount of work, there were also those
student-teachers who used to hand in their work late. As much as I tried to negotiate
the time limits, certain deadlines were not met by everyone. In this case, I found it
even more difficult to provide feedback when reading and tackling a number of
issues rather than focus on one at the same time. Inadvertently I was running behind
schedule, and initially I felt I could do little about it. Later, a compromise was
found after asking student-teachers to select their best work from the previous three
to four weeks to be read and commented upon. If student-teachers co-operated a
little bit more, my work would have been more systematic and efficient.
7.3.6.4 Recording interviews and conferences
The tape-recordings of interviews and conferences was very time consuming, and
took even more time to transcribe. I had a feeling that the presence of the recording
device was influencing their response. How could I know if they were talking their
mind or if they were trying to please me? In particular, were the conferences meant
for student-teachers to share their feelings or to talk through my agenda? I think
there were times that my research agenda clashed with their priorities. Only when
my anxiety with my own research alleviated, did I feel relaxed and listened
attentively to whet they were actually experiencing in schools and classrooms. Thus,
I let the student-teachers set their own agenda, and explore those areas they deemed
as a priority. But it took me months to reach there.
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Since the quality of the tape-recordings was not optimal, the interview with the
second group was held at the University Radio. Hence I achieved a clearer and
sharper noiseless digital recording that facilitated immensely the listening and
transcription process. However, this new environment meant that some studentteachers felt really awkward in front of the microphone. I could do little about this,
except providing a supportive environment and reassuring them about the purpose
of the interview.
One other way of reading this aspect is by trying to strike a balance between the
need to embrace what naturally emerges, and the careful selection of apposite
method/s related to clear and defined set of research questions. This alignment or
balance would have saved me and student-teachers a lot of time, undue stress and
unyielding effort. Moreover, had this process been done in advance, it would have
saved the time spent on data reduction due to unnecessary overlap with other data
(vide Chapter 7).
7.3.6.5 Teaching practice and my role crises
While negotiating access to schools was never an issue, I immediately felt this was
creating a tension between my role at university and that as an examiner in schools.
When I was observing a literature lesson, what exactly was my role? Studentteachers felt this tension, and pointed out during conferences, that I was ‘different’
during teaching practice visits. While initially I was thinking on capitalising on the
data from teaching practice reports, subsequently I rethought my role and decided
not even to consider them as possible data for my research. By eliminating them
rather early on in the first cycle, I thought I had solved a real problem with a number
of ethical issues around it (vide Section 7.4.6) .
During teaching practice student-teachers can receive a Pass or a Non-Satisfactory,
which is a politically correct way of saying, Fail, upon each visit. While I always
felt accepted by all my student-teachers and for the whole duration of the research
and beyond, however one particular incident opened my eyes as to how fragile
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relationships are. On one occasion, a particular student-teacher was assigned a NonSatisfactory performance; she then carried on with significant improvements and
quality support to pass her teaching practice.
However, there was a marked
difference in her attitude, before and after teaching practice. While initially she was
very enthusiastic, after teaching practice she sort of had cold feet. It took a lot of
communication and persuasion as well as listening by my part to finally rope her in
again with the whole group. Student-teachers are really sensitive during this period
and can create undue barriers when they feel their identity is being threatened. This
incident goes on to show how tactful a researcher and lecturer needs to be in these
difficult times.
7.3.6.6 To translate from Maltese or to write directly in English?
Student-teachers know in advance that their assessment language would be the same
as the one used during lectures. Frankly, I did not imagine translation would be a
difficult and tedious process, as I soon discovered once I started translating parts of
the data. Particular expressions, Maltese Semitic based syntax and their
idiosyncratic writing style, were not always easy or straightforward to render into
English. Once I realised this, one possibility would have been to give them a choice
to write in English. That would have solved my problem, but what message would I
be sending out? On second-thoughts, this idea was discarded since I truly believe in
the categorical imperative in expressing oneself in Maltese. Naturally, I dedicated
more time to the translation of relevant sections to be later inserted in my research.
7.3.6.7 No happy endings… just learning
These problematic sites and events during my research were identified,
acknowledged and thoroughly thought over. While instinctively, I initially qualified
these situations and events as problematic and not according to plan, through
‘reflection-on-action’ (Schön, 1983, 1987), these were considered as: opportunities
to rethink my way of doing things or conceiving research; sites for selfimprovement; and an unrepeatable occasion to experiment with new possibilities. I
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fully concur with McNiff and Whitehead (2002: 90) when they state: “Learning
from processes where things do not go right is as valuable as when they do.”
7.3.7 The role of data and the nature of evidence
Whilst in this chapter I stressed the role of data generating experiences, I am aware
that: “Evidence is not data; it is drawn from the data. Data transforms into evidence
when actions show that the criteria we have set ourselves are realised” (McNiff and
Whitehead, 2002: 100).
The generated data had to be sieved and categorised
according to themes and sub-themes, that subsequently were critically read for
reader-response’s themes, and reflective and assessment issues (vide Part III). The
field or context not only determined the methods used, but also the way they were
designed to fit the particular exigencies that I encountered with my student-teachers
– part of the skill of being a bricoleur (vide Chapter 6). There were a series of
decisions and deliberations and at times real complex negotiations with my studentteachers, different possibilities were entertained and finally decided upon. Having
undergone this process twice, I can understand Hilary Radnor’s (2001: 30)
definition of the researcher as “the research instrument who engages in a
transactional process, recognizing that the process is ethics-in-action.”
7.4
Ethics and my research
To put it simply, “the question of ethics in research is a highly complex subject”
(Cohen and Manion, 1994: 360).
Indeed, no research question, method of
investigation and/or presentation of research findings, can be considered immune
from ethical considerations. Alas “each stage in the research sequence may be a
potential source of ethical problems” (Cohen and Manion, 1994: 348). Furthermore,
this comment is an eye opener to every researcher: “ethical considerations are
inseparable from your everyday interactions with your others and with your data”
(Glesne and Peshkin, 1992: 109). For as every thoughtful researcher who has
conducted research at least once can tell: “Ethical concerns encountered in
educational research in particular can be extremely complex and subtle and can
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frequently place researchers in moral predicaments which appear quite unresolved”
(Cohen and Manion, 1994: 347). However, awareness of such predicaments should
only motivate the researcher to regulate his/her endeavour by becoming what I call
an ‘ethically informed responsible agent’.
7.4.1
Characteristics of an ethically informed responsible agent
I envision an ethically informed responsible agent as a person that strives to attain
those virtues that will enable him/her to perform his/her duty with personal
satisfaction. Similar to the Hippocratic Oath, ethically informed responsible agents
should first and foremost take heed not to harm others with their actions. Honesty
can be another guiding principle, hence s/he should be clear about the motivations of
the research, be transparent with his/her subjects of the research’s intentions, and
aim at presenting an authentic version and interpretation of the collected data. No
research performed by the ethically informed responsible agent can be devoid of
respect towards those that participate in the research project, especially those that
act as subjects, informants or collaborators. This, in turn, projects an image of a
person of great integrity that merits trust. During the planning, actualisation and
writing phases, the ethically informed responsible agent should feel responsible
towards, demonstrate every care to, feel accountable for, and respect the dignity, of
each and every participant. Being true to oneself during the research process may
be a very challenging prospect involving personal integrity, consistency in one’s
actions and fairness towards others. Even with these virtues and values at hand, the
ethically informed responsible agent will still encounter ethical problems or
questions along his/her process of improvement. For the learning process of the
ethically informed responsible agent is never ending, and with reflection improves
over time, generating ever greater sensitivity, empathy and compassion.
7.4.2
Codes of Ethics
Researchers should be familiar with the relevant code/s of ethics that inform and
regulate their specialised field. This is due to the fact that: “Ethical codes are
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written to cover the specific problems and issues that scientists frequently encounter
in the types of research carried out within a particular profession. [….] These codes
therefore reflect the consensus regarding values with a profession (FrankfortNachimias and Nachmias, 1996: 90). Further benefits obtained from an adherence
to a code of ethics are: the researcher can be easily identified with a wider
community with its common set of values and reputation; clarification of the
obligations the researcher has towards his/her subjects; an awareness of the
distinction between a right way from a wrong way of doing things; and informed in
advance how to deal with the unknown or unexpected (Cohen and Manion, 1994:
381).
Apart from the Data Protection Act (Malta Laws, 2003) and the Malta Education
Division’s formal application for those individuals or bodies that wanted to conduct
research in schools, there was no local code of ethics I could abide to. Initially, for
guidance and counsel I referred to the British Educational Research Association’s
BERA Ethical Guidelines (1992) and the 2004 Revised Ethical Guidelines for
Educational Research.
7.4.3
Consent letter: The participants’ first safe-guard
One important principle that guides researchers in their practice is that of obtaining
permission from their subjects to research a particular aspect, also known as
informed consent. A positive aspect of informed consent is that “it can contribute to
the empowering of the researched” (Glesne and Peshkin, 2001: 111). A copy of the
consent letter was handed out to each and every student-teacher on the very first
encounter. They were expected to signify acceptance or rejection on the allocated
space by the following week. This was in accordance with what Homan (1991: 69)
rightly qualified as “the essence of the principle of informed consent” that is, that
the participants “should be allowed to agree or refuse to participate in the light of
comprehensive information concerning the nature and purpose of the research.” All
student-teachers cordially accepted to participate in my research project.
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7.4.4
Confidentiality and anonymity
When it comes to the rights of the research participants, “privacy is generally the
foremost concern” (Glesne and Peshkin, 1992: 117). Therefore, it was natural as an
ethically informed responsible agent to try as much as possible to create a friendly
and relaxed atmosphere where student-teachers could feel accepted, secure and
confident that what they shared would be valued, respected and kept secret. I was
aware and confident that everything I listen to or read would be considered strictly
as confidential, however I was not alone. I tried as much as possible to emphasise
this aspect at the start, during and toward the end of the study-unit. In this regards,
sharing this responsibility with my students to a certain extent mitigated the weight
of such a crucial aspect. Indeed, confidentiality “operated as a devise to secure
cooperation” (Homan, 1991: 150) whilst defending the participants’ basic rights. To
date, no one showed any inclination to withdraw, limit or censure parts of his/her
contribution, although they were informed they could do so at any time.
I assured the participants that I valued their privacy. Therefore, no participant is
identified by his/her name, instead I use pseudonyms. I am aware of institutional
giveaways – “unless massively disguised” (Piper and Simons, 2005: 57) – like the
year of enrolment in the course or study unit, their subject specialisation and
possibly even their gender.
About the latter, since there were only two male
student-teachers, and it would be a question of either one, I must admit that it was
difficult to hide completely. Following Piper and Simons’ (2005: 57) suggestion, a
way forward which I adopted in my research was to contact both individuals and ask
for clearance at the end.
7.4.5
Moving toward a new way of doing ethics
Whilst code/s of ethics and consent letters tend to be very informative and
explicative, they do not cover all the intricate situations that the researcher ends up
with during his/her research period. Moreover: “When researchers investigate their
own practice, many of the traditional guidelines collapse” (Zeni, 2001: 153).
Ethical questions can never be settled for good, and each day will bring its own set
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of new questions. Two possible solutions might be drawn from two adjacent fields
of study: “ethics-in-action” (Radnor, 2001: 34-35) and/or “situated ethics” (Simons
and Usher, 2000).
Within an ethics-in-action framework, Radnor (2001: 35),
paraphrasing Pring, explains that the researcher acts respectfully toward his/her
participants “through the setting up of feeding back data and sharing findings with
them.” Midway through the data collection, just after teaching practice and towards
the end of data collection, I tried to share some preliminary results or broad trends or
patterns with diligent student-teachers in informal meetings. On the other hand,
situated ethics is that field where in a relativistic milieu, one of the possible inroads
forward in the meandering field of ethics is that of apprehending the situation,
framing it with the lived context of those participating in that action or immersed in
that dilemma. Thus, according to Simons and Usher (2000: 2) situated ethics “is
immune to universalization” since it “is local and specific to particular practices.”
This is reiterated by Piper and Simons (2005: 58): situated ethics “encourage
participants to develop their own ethical practice in the groups and contexts in
which they work and an ethics which takes into account the specific cultural
differences between people.” Hence, the trust behind both models derives from the
conviction that it is the duty of the ethically informed responsible agent to act
consciously within an unpredictable and complex context where one cannot resort to
“indubitable foundations and incontrovertible principles” (Simons and Usher, 2000:
3).
This is the ethically informed responsible agent’s moral imperative.
This
embracement of ethics by the ethically informed responsible agent is “the
inescapable necessity” (Simons and Usher, 2000: 3) of his/her enterprise. This
unending sequence of actions and reflections acts as a laboratory for ethical learning
and would enable the ethically informed responsible agent to forge and develop a
personal research ethic.
Within a relativistic complex context, one’s informed
conscious is the sole guarantee for principled practice. The defence of one’s own
conscience as a guide in ethical dilemmas, “…to be justifiable as an ethical practice,
[would] need to be accompanied by a disciplined self-reflexive approach to one’s
behaviour” (Piper and Simons: 2005: 58).
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7.4.6
An example of the disciplined self-reflexive approach in practice
Steiner (1991: 163) defines reflexivity as “a turning back onto a self,” the spiralling
in of one’s thoughts and ideas around an issue. I will use the way the relationship
between myself and my student-teachers evolved during the months of my research
as an example and illustration of a disciplined self-reflexive approach. Within a
qualitative research paradigm, relationships are an essential, unavoidable component
of the research dynamics. For as Radnor (2001: 34) explains: “The researcher as
instrument transecting in the field is qualitatively dependent on the relationships
initiated and developed by the researcher with the research participants.”
I arrived at this research with the preconception that where it comes to ethics in
research, the sole responsible person would naturally be the researcher. I followed
the suggestion of writing a consent letter by the book. And that, I thought, would
bring to an end the ethics chapter. I couldn’t be more naïve or short sighted. The
real problems started to crop up as the days of my research started to pass by. Little
by little, my certitude metamorphosed into a blob of doubt, manifesting itself in an
inexplicable sense of uneasiness, a perennial sense of anxiety. As time passed,
through regular communication with my student-teachers including group email
shots and informal meetings at university, I was becoming more aware that actually
I was not on my own in this research project. Rather than a question of an ‘us and
them’ (or rather, an ‘I and them’) binary opposite, action research lends itself
brilliantly to a new form of ethics, not the canonical one, but still powerful enough
to challenge my beliefs and act accordingly. I depended on my students, as much as
they depended on me, with one slight difference… a different degree of power! For
as much as the researcher tries to mitigate the differences, in a research: “The
relationships, however, are generally asymmetrical, with power disproportionately
on the side of the researcher” (Glesne and Peshkin, 1992: 117). I questioned myself
about what I could do to try to bridge the unbridgeable, to divest myself from the
absolute power that is invested in the lecturer qua lecturer. I could be more friendly,
dedicate more time for open discussions, participate in informal meetings, joke… all
these would not have an affect on the lecturer-student relationship? How would I
know? I already did all that in the first cycle. And the results were that after the
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close of the academic year I still felt that distance that I had worked so hard to
overcome.
During summer of 2004, I matured the conviction that what militated against what I
had worked and hoped for, was my role. Instead of one role I was wearing at the
same time at least three different, contradictory, roles: lecturer, researcher and above
all (at least in my student-teachers’ eyes) examiner on teaching practice. Power was
exerted and manifested itself in the act of assigning grades at the end of a study-unit.
Therefore, summative assessment that assigns the power in the hands of the teacher
or lecturer was the great culprit (vide Chapter 5). Having identified the cause I
could find a remedy. I became more and more aware how my first role not only
influenced but determined the type and quality of the relationship with the
researcher. And the solution was in the adoption of an assessment for learning
approach, where I share the responsibility assigned to grades and assessment with
my students through a carefully planned series of activities that would include peerassessment and self-assessment, apart from a minor component of feedback. Since
students were not used to that kind of responsibility, I had to induct them in a
different way of learning and assessment.
The second cycle was not a rosy
experience either; I experienced resistance mainly through a passive-aggressive
behaviour which I counteracted with sessions where I had to explain why we were
doing things and what they might learn. However, I managed to identify a problem,
consider a horizon of possibilities, select with care one or two options, present them
to my students, negotiate the requirements or deadlines, make the necessary
amendments and finally put everything into practice and move forward. That is
what I would regard as taking the role of an ethically responsible informed agent. In
other words, I was willing to take on board Zeni’s (2001: 164) acute observation:
“Collaboration and communication are the best guides to preventing the ethical
dilemmas of practitioner research.” I could feel a sense of relief knowing that what
I had thought to be my sole responsibility I could now share with my students.
Homan (1991: 124) declared: “The researcher-subject relationship is not prescribed
in the codes as one of authority but one of cooperation in which the rights are
accorded to the subject to whom the researcher must be obliged.”
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7.5
Two conclusions
I have arrived at two major conclusions reflecting and writing about ethics and
research. Firstly, more than ever I acknowledge for I have lived the fact that
ethically informed research is a balancing act between two rights: “the right of the
scientist to conduct research and to acquire knowledge and the right of individual
research participants to self-determination, privacy, and dignity” (FrankfortNachmias and Nachmias, 1996: 80). As I gradually took up the role of an ethically
informed responsible agent, having faced a series of small and not so small
dilemmas and issues, I have no doubt after this experience I would prefer the latter
and sacrifice the right to know.
Secondly, it is interesting to note that two general methodology books position
ethics in different places: at the beginning of the book as if to suggest that ethics act
as a guiding light (Frankfort-Nachmias and Nachmias, 1996) and the final chapter as
if ethics is the last consideration of the researcher (Cohen and Manion, 1994). I
prefer to believe that ethics was and is the guiding principle of my research, or at the
heart of my research process. Thus this section was strategically placed at the centre
between methodological and epistemological issues, and the analysis, hence when
taken together the ethics section acts as a fulcrum for the other two.
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INTERMEZZO II
Thirteen ways of looking at ‘becoming’
One of my favourite poems is Wallace Stevens’ (1923/1984: 92-95) ‘Thirteen ways
of looking at a blackbird.’ Immediately I am attracted to its rhythm that seems to
imitate the blackbird’s flight, going fast or slowing down as it reaches a branch, and
becoming motionless as it disappears in the vegetation once at rest. Furthermore,
reading this poem brings to mind two poetic genres that in a way Stevens’ poem
hovers around without actually being exactly either one of them. First, different
sections of this poem are very much in line with Imagist poetry aesthetics, with their
strong sense of image “which presents an intellectual and emotional complex in an
instant of time” and economy of words in such a way as all reveal something about
the subject (Pound, in Jones, 1972: 130-131). Similarly, haiku writing, at least in
the traditional sense, gives great attention to the image that speaks on its own
without any need of anything else to emphasise or mediate our impression (vide
Yasuda, 1957/2000). This is just one short example to illustrate the above two
points: “Among twenty snowy mountains, / The only moving thing / Was the eye of
the blackbird” (vv. 1–3).
Very much related then, is the idea attributed to traditional Zen philosophy, that of
becoming one with things, such as in the teaching of Shunryu Suzuki (1970: 83):
“When you are you, you see things as they are, and you become one with your
surroundings.” This is best exemplified in verses 11–12: “A man and a woman and
a blackbird / Are one.”
The particular title of this poem gave me an inspiration to a reflection on
‘becoming.’ In doing so, I draw on a variety of experiences and fields which when
read together highlight different aspects and attributes of the word that can be
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considered as a cornerstone of my argument. Similar to Stevens’ poem, the thirteen
reflections are listed in roman numbers, and for easy reference are schematised thus:
I
A dictionary’s definition
II
A man of letters’ definition
III
Contradictory proverbs
IV-V
Philosophical interpretations
VI
Lyrics from a TV series
VII
An unexpected defence of becoming
VIII-IX Becoming as paradox
X-XII Reading as becoming
XIII
Two variations of a becoming metaphor
I
Mirriam Webster’s (n.d.) online dictionary defines ‘becoming’ as:
Function: adjective
Date: 15th century
: SUITABLE, FITTING; especially: attractively suitable <becoming
modesty>
And ‘become’:
Function: verb
Inflected Form(s): be·came; be·come; be·com·ing
Etymology: Middle English, to come to, become, from Old English
becuman, from be- + cuman to come
Date: before 12th century
intransitive verb1 a: to come into existence b: to come to be <become sick>
2: to undergo change or development transitive verb: to be suitable to
<seriousness becoming the occasion>; especially: to be becoming to <her
clothes become her>
— become of: to happen to <wondering whatever became of old friends>
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II
Life is a process of becoming, and this is no more evident than in Robert Louis
Stevenson’s (1917: 164) often quoted sentence: “To be what we are, and to become
what we are capable of becoming, is the only end of life.” Stevenson (1917: 151) is
reflecting on Thoreau, claiming that his “true subject was the pursuit of selfimprovement combined with an unfriendly criticism as it goes on in our societies.”
Being true to oneself, and to strive to achieve what best can be achieved, can be
considered as an aim in life. Abraham Maslow (1970/1987) termed this higherorder need as “self-actualisation,” the state of self-fulfilment when the individual’s
highest potential is achieved. Maybe I will not walk all the way with Stevenson as
to consider it as life’s goal, but there is some truth in it. Nothing can be more
illuminating than in a training course, or course to become a teacher. Understanding
one’s potential and striving hard to achieve to maximise one’s potential, can be
every student-teacher’s mission or motto during his/her initial teacher training.
III
Proverbs have a special place in my consciousness as a Maltese since these are the
gems of lore from past generations that have survived the test of time. However, I
have always been fascinated by two English proverbs that I had learnt by heart when
I still was very young at primary school. The first one is very reassuring: ‘Nobody
is perfect.’ I used to repeat it like a mantra every time I received feedback on my
compositions in English rewritten in red by my teacher. According to this proverb,
the process of becoming, life’s aim for many, does not entail perfection. However,
then, another proverb contradicts the former: ‘Practice makes perfect.’ And indeed
educational process is intended to ameliorate oneself perhaps to such a degree as to
reach perfection. Then I read Deborah Britzman’s (2003) insightful narrative of two
teachers learning to teach, Practice Makes Practice, and I know where I stand.
Better off with believing that humans are fallible beings, prone to mistakes and
failures… “Embracing contraries” (Elbow, 1986) rather than living dualism such as
what we are accustomed to do in the Western world can be illuminating in more
than one sense. Indeed, as Shunryu Suzuki (1970: 103) enigmatically explains:
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We should find perfect existence through imperfect existence. We
should find perfection in imperfection. For us, complete perfection is
not different from imperfection.
IV
Hegel’s tripartite distinction between Being, Nothing and Becoming is a very useful
and powerful one.
Being, in Hegel’s The Science of Logic, refers to the
immediateness of things, as opposed to their inner essence. On the other hand,
nothing is the negation of being, non-being. Both categories point towards each
other: “Being, as Being, is nothing fixed or ultimate: it yields to dialectic and sinks
into its opposite, which, also taken immediately, is Nothing” (Hegel, 1812-16/1950:
161). However, it is the third category that receives most interesting attention, since
it is the state that mediates between the former two. As Hegel (1812-16/1950: 163)
explicates: “The truth of Being and of Nothing is accordingly the unity of the two:
and this unity is Becoming.”
In conclusion, Hegel (1812-16/1950: 167–168)
contends that: “Becoming is the only explicit statement of what Being is in its truth”
and “Becoming is the first adequate vehicle of truth.” As Michael Inwood (1992:
45) explains: “becoming is either the coming to be of what was not, or the ceasing to
be of what was. …becoming too is unstable, since it contradictorily contains both
being and nothing, and it collapses into Dasein.”
This latter point is further
elucidated by Gadamer (1976: 89), being and nothing “are more to be treated as
analytic moments in the concept of Becoming [….] Coming-into-being and passingaway are thus the self-determining truth of Becoming.”
Furthermore, Hegel makes a relationship between becoming and beginning. Since
becoming a teacher requires a beginning an induction course, the relationship
between the two is enlightening.
Hegel (1812-16/1950: 166) contends that:
“Beginning is itself a case of Becoming” with a proviso that “the former term is
employed with an eye to the further advance.”
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V
Philosophising with a hammer – a metaphor that can be understood both as a
euphemism for nihilism, as well as the act of the blacksmith that forges and crafts
new designs and patterns from hot incandescent iron rods – Friedrich Nietzsche
(1968: 310) claims that: “this world is a world of becoming” and “[i]n a world of
becoming, “reality” is always only a simplification for practical ends, or a deception
through the coarseness of organs or a variation in the tempo of becoming”
(Nietzsche, 1968: 312).
Nietzsche (1968: 331) bestows upon becoming a
regenerating quality: “Becoming as invention, willing, self-denial, overcoming of
oneself: no subject but an action, a positing, creative, no “causes and effects.””
At the same time, Nietzsche (1878/1996: 80) makes an interesting comment: “In the
case of everything perfect we are accustomed to abstain from asking how it became;
we rejoice in the present fact as though it came out of the ground by magic” for
“What is perfect is supposed not to have become.” He who has the privilege of not
becoming, a perfect entity from the very start (if this is not a contradiction), if it
exists it has to be only one entity, God.
Furthermore, in Ecce Homo (Nietzsche, 1908/2004) not only echoes Pilate’s words
when presenting the battered Christ to the infuriating crowd, but interestingly
enough chose the following subtitle: How One Becomes What One Is. Looking
back, as if presenting himself to the mob, Nietzsche acknowledges his
accomplishments, and in his virtuoso style comments on Why I am so wise, Why I
am so clever, and Why I write such excellent books. Only in understanding folly or
grandeur do we better understand ‘normal’ life.
VI
During the time of my research, one very popular American TV series in Malta
shown mainly on Rai Due (Italian television, very much similar to BBC2) or local
cable network was Felicity (1998–2002). To a certain extent, the series can be
compared to a coming of age novel, with Felicity Porter as the main character and
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four-year university course as a backdrop for all the amorous adventures and
academic hurly-burly. Interestingly enough, the first two series had a soundtrack
without any lyrics. Then the third and fourth series were accompanied by a very
short set of verses, composed and performed by J. J. Abrams and Andrew Jarecki (in
Various Artists, 2002), that present the leitmotiv of the whole series. The title itself
‘New Versions of You’ is indicative of the spirit of the series.
Can you become
Can you become
A new version of you
New wallpaper
New shoe leather
A new way home
I don’t remember
New version of you
I need a new version of me
New version of you
I need a new version of me
The first part introduces the subject: “can you become / a new version of you?”
Then the authors propose three metaphors or symbols: wallpaper, shoe leather and a
different path towards home. The last four lines, sort of very rudimentary ritornello,
present an enigmatic formulation of what can be the meaning of becoming: “New
version of you / I need a new version of me”.
The idea of a new version,
encapsulates an idea that the process of becoming is very much similar to a new
version of a pre-existing idea or identity, very much similar to a new model of a car.
This shedding off of an old skin and putting on a new one, presenting oneself as a
new individual is a desirable process, highlighted by the verb “need”. It is neither
an automatic nor incidental process or event; indeed becoming is a deliberate act
sought after and worked at by an individual that understands that becoming is a
learning and at times difficult process.
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VII
Let one close one’s eyes and imagine one is in AD 1520 in Germany. Let one
imagine receiving a bull from the Pope oneself, admonishing one about one’s
teaching and preaching.
Then, days and months later, having gathered one’s
thoughts, compelled from an inner force, one decides to write one’s defence…
This life, therefore, is not righteousness, but growth in righteousness;
not health, but healing; not being, but becoming; not rest, but exercise.
We are not yet what we shall be, but we are growing toward it. The
process is not yet finished, but it is going on. This is not the end, but it
is the road. All does not yet gleam in glory, but all is being purified.
The quote is taken from Martin Luther’s (c. 1522) defence of his 95 theses issued in
1517 that shook the Church and created a chiasm never experienced before. One
might only imagine the state Luther was in when writing these words; but he who is
a believer from his very heart knows that right is on his side! In life one needs to be
active. It is not enough to be content with just being; one needs to live life to the
full by savouring the becomingness of every moment! Becoming is a process of
purification.
Years later, Hegel (1812-16/1950: 168) observed that becoming on its own is a
“poor term” that “needs to grow in depth and weight of meaning” when embedded
in either life or mind without ever exhausting them. Luther arrived there earlier!
VIII
Recently rap and hip-hop composer and performer Tupac Amaru Shakur (1998),
known by the stage-name 2Pac, in one of his most celebrated songs, ‘Changes,’
asserts:
That’s just the way it is
Things’ll (sic) never be the same
That’s just the way it is
More than two thousand years earlier, Heraclitus, a Greek philosopher, expressed
the identical reflection epitomised in his famous question that reads like a Buddhist
koan: can you jump in the same river twice? It all depends how you look at it and
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how one defines river as an entity with its own characteristics. The impermanence
of things related thus to the becomingness of things, has entered mainstream
discourse in many guises. One of them is story that illustrates a paradox. Plutarch
(1970: 15), a Greek historian and famous biographer of a number of Greek and
Roman important figures, when telling the many vicissitudes of the Greek Theseus
recounts that…
The ship wherein Theseus and the youth of Athens returned had thirty
oars, and was preserved by the Athenians down even to the time of
Demetrius Phalereus, for they took away the old planks as they
decayed, putting in new and stronger timber in their place, insomuch
that this ship became a standing example among the philosophers, for
the logical question as to things that grow; one side holding that the
ship remained the same, and the other contending that it was not the
same.
This episode, illustrates the paradox one might glimpse when discussing becoming
as a process of shedding off the old and replacing it with the new. When does the
balance between what one was yesterday topple over to what one becomes today.
Becoming is at the very heart of identity and change. Demarcating what constitutes
an entity in an ever-evolving situation is a difficult, if not an impossible task.
Persistence or what remains unaltered is a fixation with the idea that things have an
idea that is unaltered or immutable. It might be related to the concept of time that
one holds.
Using Henri Bergson’s concept of “duration” – that is the extension and
prolongation of the past in the present, and the difficult reconciliation between the
special understanding of time and the ineffable qualities of sequences – Paulo Freire
(1997: 65) tried to explain the dialectic concept of being and becoming of people
who “are aware of their incompletion” with education serving as an impetus toward
the drive to attain progress. Freire (1997: 65) distinguishes between at least two
models of education: the “banking method” with its great emphasis on permanence;
and championed “problem posing education” that is “constantly remade in the
praxis.”
The process of change that forms part of the affirmation process of
individuals, according to Freire (1997: 65) “roots itself in the dynamic present and
becomes revolutionary.”
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IX
Zen philosophy provides us with a number of koans, stories that while being
difficult to understand, shed an authentic light on the importance of being aware,
with mind focused on the present, moment after moment. This is a very famous
koan reported in Shunryu Suzuki (1970: 81):
Zuikan was a Zen master who always used to address himself.
“Zuikan?” he would call. And then he would answer. “Yes!”
“Zuikan?” “Yes!” Of course he was living all alone in his small zendo
[a place dedicated to meditation], and of course he knew who he was,
but sometimes he lost himself. And whenever he lost himself, he
would address himself, “Zuikan?” “Yes!”
In the process of becoming, when we lose sight of who we were and cannot exactly
grasp who we have become, in a certain way we lose our self. From time to time,
maybe we too should remind ourselves who we are. No wonder how when we ask
who we are, usually the reply is our profession. Who are we as teachers? How did
we become or are we still becoming teachers?
X
Each year countless books are published on education. But very few leave an
indelible mark on many teachers. If, like Peter Smagorinsky (2002: 23), I had to
make some space in my library and I had to select which books to set aside and
which to keep for future reference, I certainly would definitely consider one book
that incidentally contains ‘becoming’ in its title. While innumerable are the books
that try to explain how one learns to read, I would consider as truly an eye-opener
Marie Clay’s (1991) Becoming Literate: The Construction of Inner Control. Crucial
to her argument is part two of her book on transitions and transformations. These
two nouns contribute another dimension to becoming. Beginning to read is a time
of transition or “translation” (Clay, 1991: 20), from knowing how to do something
in one context to using it in another context. Therefore, transitions occur as an
elaboration, accommodation, adjustment or extension of existing knowledge. On
the other hand, transformation occurs when new theories are developed in the
learner; that is when no pre-existing knowledge can act as a springboard to new
knowledge. The process of transitions and transformation are not the same for every
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child; there are those that move fast, average and take a long time. One might
deduce that becoming is not a one size fits all itinerary. Likewise, the process of
becoming a teacher is both a transition from being a student with years observing
teachers teaching to the forefront of the class as a student-teacher, and at the same
time, teacher training involves an encounter with new ideas, novel ways of thinking
about practice, insights from theories that are new. From my experience, studentteachers believe that they already know it all and are more transition oriented than
open enough to experience epiphanies or transformations.
XI
The process of becoming a reader is a very complicated journey. While many
believe that it is a personal one, others concur that there are discrete patterns of
behaviour and reading interests that can be grouped together under specific stages.
Becoming a Reader (Appleyard, 1990), albeit a reader of fiction, takes a bottom up
approach, that is, surveying a multitude of responses to fiction written or expressed
by a number of students and adults, one can but notice similarities and
discontinuities.
Hence, segmenting the process of becoming a reader in the
following stages based on the particular role or “stance” (Rosenblatt, 1978) a reader
takes:
Early childhood:
The reader as player
Later childhood:
The reader as hero and heroine
Adolescence:
The reader as thinker
College and beyond: The reader as interpreter
Adulthood:
The pragmatic reader
As a teacher of literature and teacher trainer, such a schematisation is very helpful if
one is knowledgeable about what entices most one’s students at a particular age. It
then follows that text selection can be more targeted and focused, and the evaluation
of the response can be according to what one can expect at a particular age based on
the particular transaction with the text rather than a scheme that initially favours one
kind or level of response (the critical one) over any other.
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XII
Time and time again I am asked by my student-teachers if after a literature lesson or
two on a particular text the teacher will have exhausted all that the text had to offer,
especially if they go through it in search of every minute figure of speech and
commented at length on its style, what is referred to as close reading. Behind this
misconception one finds the implied assumption that meaning of a literary text is
finite, there inside the text waiting to be unearthed, that the authors and readers are
incidental and unimportant beings, and where context is better left at the side. These
assumptions are directly related to the formal reading of literature according to the
principles and methods of an influential movement called New Criticism (vide
Abrams, 1993: 246–248; Chapter 3).
Conversely, if one is inspired by reader-oriented theories and beliefs, reading a text
can be qualified as a process of becoming. Within such a paradigm, interpretations
are only a rendering: that satisfy momentarily our quest for more meaning; where
texts are “open” rather than “closed” (Eco, 1962) to multitude of interactions and
negotiations with different readers and audiences across cultures and time; where
readers define the “transaction” (Rosenblatt, 1978) with texts according to their
“identity theme” (Holland, 1980: 121); and texts offer a never-ending “horizon” of
possibilities (Gadamer, 1976: 269) or “expectations” (Jauss, 1982). Reading as
becoming offers a new way of conceptualising the teaching of literature. Rather
than close ended, reading literature in a new manner is an open ended aesthetic
event and endeavour. Reading becomes a self-discovery, a never-ending journey of
becoming.
As Cleo wondered upon the open-endedness of literature in her
Reflective Diary (18/12/2003):
When time passes by and I happen to reread a book, I feel different
thoughts and emotions than the ones during the first reading. That is
why I believe that literature reaches its aim when it leaves you in the
middle of the road or rather without a definite conclusion… literature
has no end, but rather supplies something new upon every reading.
Without such a concept of reading literature as a becoming, a never ending evolving
and unfolding process, literature would soon die a natural death, caused by a
malignant virus called: boredom.
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XIII
variation 1
Be
coming
is
a
moment
between
a mask and a mask
variation 2
Becoming is a moment between a mask and a mask
In this final reflection I draw on a definition that resembles “lampo” poetry
(variation 1) – that kind of poetry that is very short, condensed and at times abstract
and obscure similar to some of Giuseppe Ungaretti’s poetry – and a maxim
(variation 2). Masks offer protection; they conceal and at the same time offer a way
to be read. Both la commedia dell’arte and Chinese classical theatre are two genres
famous for character-masks. The traditional Venetian masks that adorn so many
faces during carnival were profusely used in Stanley Kubrick’s (1999) last film Eyes
Wide Shut. We all wear masks during our days and months, put on countless masks
during our lifetime, maybe even to ourselves. The only true moment of becoming,
authentic as one can be, is, in my opinion, that fleeting or transitory brief moment
when we are taking off one mask and putting on another. Maybe, life is too much to
bear if one is stripped of one’s masks. But then, this final reflection, seductive as it
may seem, might be yet another mask or travesty of what is actually becoming. In
the end, to quote from Stevens’ (1923/1984: 92–95) aforementioned poem: “The
river is moving. / The blackbird must be flying” (vv. 48–49).
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PART III
BECOMING TEACHERS OF LITERATURE:
A LECTURER AND STUDENT-TEACHERS’ PERSPECTIVE
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OVERVIEW
The data gathered during the two years yielded a number of themes. However,
bearing in mind the three essential research areas for my thesis (Chapters 3, 4 and
5), I had to strike a balance between the data I generated as a lecturer researching
my own practice, and the trajectories taken by my student-teachers in their journey
from readers to teachers of literature. In a way I wanted to give a dialectical
perspective between my intentions, aims and reflections, and the perceived
curriculum from the receiving end, the student-teachers’ point of view.
In Chapter 9 I theorise parts of my practice in constructing, implementing and
reviewing the study-unit ‘The Literary Experience in the Secondary School.’ Then,
in Chapters 9 and 10, I present a lived experience of the study-unit by focusing on
six themes. Finally, in Chapter 11, I present some end-pieces that bracket or bring
to a closure a long journey of which my research documented only the first but
crucial steps…
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CHAPTER 8
Becoming teachers of literature: A lecturer’s experience
8.1
Is there a lecturer in this class?
A reformulation of Stanley Fish’s (1980) title draws attention to the question of who
exactly is a lecturer, what is a class, and what kind of relationship exists between the
two. In this chapter I want to unpack and elaborate some of the different roles and
responsibilities of a lecturer in designing, delivering and reviewing a methodology
study-unit within my local context. Knowledge production within a ‘dialogical
classroom’ (Wells, 1999: 335-336) is explained throughout. Finally, the concept of
tools or pedagogical resources is taken as another example whereby the lecturer
exerts his/her “pedagogical authority” (Bourdieu and Passeron, 1970/1990).
8.1.1
Vignettes, or the importance of lived experience and its reconstruction
Along this chapter I present a number of vignettes to illustrate the lived experience
during the study-unit. I consider these vignettes as crucial since they are both a
“description of the lived-through quality of lived experience” and “a description of
meaning of the expressions of the lived experience,” a type of phenomenological
description that is more interpretative (van Manen, 1997: 25). My reconstruction
draws on narrative inquiry that “is concerned with the production, interpretation and
representation of storied accounts of lived experience” (Shacklock and Thorp, 2005:
156). Through the process of writing and rewriting these few vignettes I attempted
at “contruct[ing] a possible interpretation of the nature of a certain human
experience” (van Manen, 1997: 41).
Following van Manen’s (1997: 64-65)
suggestions, in this reconstruction I try to: describe things from the inside with
multiple perspectives in sequence and collage-like form; attend to feelings rather
than abstract conceptualisations or rereading of events; focus on each session as a
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particular event that can be bracketed and analysed; and select a particular
experience for its clarity in transmitting sensations and moods.
Lived experience can never be totally translated and encapsulated in words. To
achieve as vivid description as possible, I draw on two main sources: the studentteachers’ reflective journals, and my own reflections based mainly on my own
research diary.
This is in line with the authority attested to diaries, journals,
autobiographies and the like, as prime documents in the historical reconstruction or
rereading of the reading event. Furthermore, it was only recently that student voice
gained momentum in educational evaluation, innovation and change (Fletcher,
2004).
To use Victor Shklovsky’s (1917/1988) terminology, by making it “strange,” by not
trying to fully systematise or logically order events, one becomes presented with a
new experience that challenges the reader to discover new modes of reading and
understanding.
8.2
Vignette I: Pedagogy as a search of perfect method?
I truly wish that during this study-unit I will be given a number of different
examples of how to teach literature effectively, creatively… not how I was taught
literature in the secondary school. It would be really good if we were given
examples of resource that we can use during the literature lesson to motivate the
students and make them see that it is something alive.
(Kim, Reflective Task 1: What would you like? A self addressed letter)
With this kind of aspiration from a methods study-unit, student-teachers are easily disappointed
when their expectations are not exactly met. Actually, hidden behind this desire is an even greater
wish, that someone finally tells them the ‘right’ or ‘best’ way to teach literature. The ‘what works
syndrome’ is easily encountered early on in an education course. Some come to methodology
study-units as if expecting ‘recipe book’ knowledge.
When I heard that the lesson’s introduction may have different durations, I saw it as
strange at first since I was expecting a sort of system or sequence that one needs to
follow and that is why I thought it would always be the same preparation time.
(Cloe, Reflective Diary, 11/12/2003)
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8.3
The identity of a lecturer in relation to that of a teacher
Within the University of Malta, the lecturer’s job description is divided into three
related areas: teaching, research and administrative duties (Quality Assurance
Committee, 2001).
More specifically, since I am an Assistant Lecturer, I am
required to contribute to undergraduate teaching, devote substantial time to read for
a higher degree, without spending too much time on the co-ordination of courses or
on administrative responsibilities (Quality Assurance Committee, 2001). Having
walked for some years in the shoes of both teacher and lecturer, I have come to
believe that an effective and innovative lecturer performs similar actions, but differs
from a teacher on these five accounts, as gathered in Table 8.1.
Table 8.1: Different distinctive characteristics of a lecturer when compared to a
teacher
1.
A greater consciousness of the decision processes that have to take place before and during
teaching.
2.
The broader repertoire of possibilities that are available to him/her to choose from.
3.
The heightened intensity with which those decisions are translated into actions.
4.
The awareness of the intimate relationship between teaching, learning and assessment (vide
Chapter 5); and
5.
The more felt responsibility of the outcomes of the whole process both for him/herself as a
lecturer and on the students as prospective professionals in their area, epitomised in the engaging
reflective act that sieves through the whole sequence of events (vide Chapter 4).
8.4
Vignette II: Films on teachers
Student-teachers were simply mesmerised by the film Dead Poets Society (Weir, 1994) with actor
Robin Williams playing Mr Keating. The notion of gendered reading, proved itself to evidence yet
another dimension to the interpretation of the film themes and subplots. Anne was attracted to
the love sub-plot of the film…
There was also a small love story that made the film more interesting since it was
not always a film on a school and we saw another dimension to the student’s life.
When I see a film with a love story embedded in it, I watch it with more interest
and enthusiasm, because I would want to know if the two lovers will finally end up
together.
(Anne, Reflective Diary, 6/5/2005)
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Anne singles out this sub-plot and reflects about it at the very beginning of her reflection. This
pressing attention is very much in line with the importance of romance novels in constructing
feminine identity: “…the female reader is offered romance as the most important experience in
shaping her femininity” (Christian-Smith, 1988: 96). But the film was important for another main
reason: the portrayal of an inspirational teacher, Mr Keating, working within a conservative
institution but with his own particular methods of teaching literature. With his charisma he
manages to make a difference in his students’ lives. Could he become my student-teachers’ model
of a teacher of literature?
8.5
Planning for a study-unit
Metaphors creatively place next to each other two unrelated ideas or concepts, and
in their juxtaposition “make a connection between the two things” (Knowles and
Moon, 2006: 3). In a way, they illuminate each other from a vintage and never
explored before point of view. I believe that George Lakoff and Mark Johnson
(1980: 3) are right when suggesting “that our [human] conceptual system is largely
metaphorical” and therefore it follows that “the way we think, what we experience,
and what we do every day is very much a matter of metaphor.”
David Berliner (1990) embraces the metaphor of ‘teacher as executive.’ Berliner
(1990: 87) identifies ten contact points between the teacher and executive when they
are fulfilling their duties. Strategically, he places ‘planning’ as the most important
characteristic. This prime importance to planning is corroborated in the special
place assigned to it in different instructional design models (vide, Kemp, Morrison
and Ross, 1988: 9).
Indeed, in these models, planning is bestowed with an
overarching function of cementing together different stages of an instructional
process.
Planning involves an awareness of different variables that impinge on the teaching
and learning process, such as: the identification of the topic or knowledge within a
spectrum of individual or group interests, sequencing of knowledge; identification
of aims for the teaching component; a learner profile; the selection of teaching style;
the mode of student assessment and evaluation of the study-unit. These are just a
few of the most basic variables that the planner has to take into consideration, that
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together add up to the conclusion that the methods course (with field experience) is
considered a “complex phenomena” (Cliff and Brady, 2006: 309).
8.5.1
Planning and knowledge
A distinctive characteristic of a lecturer is that s/he must have a sound knowledge of
subject matter. Lee Shulman (1986: 9) emphasises three conceptions of knowledge
essential to any teacher (and lecturer): subject matter content knowledge;
pedagogical content knowledge (PCK), and curricular knowledge. The interesting
concept in the tri-partite categorisation is the second concept. This category bridges
what for ages seemed to be unbridgeable, that is, forging a relationship between
content and pedagogy, or what Shulman (1986: 7-9) himself identifies as ‘the
missing paradigm.’ For Shulman (1986: 9), PCK refers to that “particular form of
content knowledge that embodies the aspects of content most germane to its
teachability” (sic), in other words, that content knowledge “which goes beyond
knowledge of subject matter per se to the dimension of subject matter knowledge for
teaching.” PCK comprises not only those frequently taught topics in a subject but
also familiarity with the most tried and tested methods to teach those topics, and an
understanding of what makes that content and selected methods more conducive or
difficult to learn. In this transformative process, I find a resemblance with what
Basil Bernstein (2000: 115) called, ‘recontextualisation,’ that process through which
discourses from other fields of production are ‘appropriated’ and ‘subordinated’ to a
different organisational principle and relationship, thus becoming “pedagogical
discourse,” for example when writing textbooks or syllabi.
8.5.2
The teaching and learning environment and climate
One distinctive classroom characteristic I envisioned was that of a ‘dialogic
classroom’ (Wells, 1999: 335-336) or ‘inquiry-based classroom’ (Beach and
Mayers, 2001), based on social constructivist principles, such as: the value of
collaboration; acting responsibly; having a practice-based curriculum organised
around themes; negotiation of goals; understanding demonstrated by different
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modes of representation; opportunities for constructive feedback leading to
improvement; and metacognitive awareness so that learning occurs smoothly and
effectively.
One may distinguish between two related concepts: teaching and learning.
Following Carl Rogers’ (1989) humanistic psychology, my idea of an environment
conducive to learning embraces three basic characteristics: respect for the students;
empathy with students; and most importantly, the teacher must transmit an authentic
picture of him/herself.
8.5.3
Lecture room environment
Entering the lecture room one feels a sense of cleanliness since the room is painted
in white and just at the front one finds a white board and a small television set to
which either a video or DVD could be plugged-in. The chairs, in bright blue are all
placed in two rows of three chairs with a small two feet wide corridor in the middle.
A large white table is placed just in front of the main whiteboard and next to it, an
Overhead Projector. Opposite the door, one finds a rather large window partially
covered with semi-torn cream vertical blinds. This window overlooks a car park.
Nothing fancy about the environment, a rather functional building which, to a
certain extent, has a clinical look to it.
8.5.4
Lecture room climate
While I had no say about the lecture room, I felt responsible for creating a positive
teaching and learning climate. John Biggs (1999: 62) explains that: “This climate is
about how we [lecturers] and they [students] feel about things, and that normally has
positive or negative effects on students’ learning.” I feel I have developed and
improved myself in this respect. My greater awareness of this basic ingredient was
achieved by personal reflection, open dialogue with past student-teachers who had
institutionally resolved their power relation with me, and some advice from other
well-intentioned critical colleagues.
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Conveying a positive climate was a complex task I had to work hard and improve
upon during the first cycle, and even more so, during the second cycle. One major
difficulty in getting to grips with classroom climate was its elusiveness. I agree with
Chris Kyriacou (1986: 143) when he states that: “Without doubt the most important
aspect of classroom climate is the hidden curriculum: the ways in which the
teacher’s [lecturer’s] actions convey information concerning his or her perceptions,
expectations, attitudes and feelings about the teacher’s role, the pupil’s role, and the
learning activities at hand.” It was difficult to try to control those hidden messages,
or try to figure out or predict how students were going to interpret my actions and
words.
The different points in Table 8.2 are some actions that I tried to take, and beliefs,
values and characteristics that I tried to embrace in order to tackle in a serious and
systematic manner, my contribution to the hidden curriculum:
Table 8.2: Changes I implemented to create a more democratic lecture room
 Increased the level of trust that as a lecturer I
have in my student-teachers’ potential.
 Trying to explain at length decisions,
workload and their responsibilities.
 Have and share high and realistic expectations
for all.
 Share my experience as a student-teacher and
teacher with my student-teachers.
 Try as much as possible to joke about things,
defuse particular tension-charged experiences
or times with a smile – avoid as much as
possible “dark sarcasm in the classroom”
(Pink Floyd, 1979).
 Expect class attendance and participation,
without keeping a class attendance list or
demand a medical certificate or justification
when they miss a lecture; inform them in
advance when I could not conduct a lecture.
 Being present in my office during students’
hours to guide them in their work; talk to them
when meeting them in the corridors or other
parts of the campus.
 Answer judiciously their questions and try as
much as possible to alleviate their doubts and
fears.
 Listen to their concerns and work as much as
possible towards accommodating their wishes.
 Initiate an open one-to-one contact through
emails to clarify particular problems (this way
of communicating with a lecturer was a new
experience for most students).
 Assign mini-assignments or reflective tasks
rather than just one-time summative test at the
end – negotiate a word limit that could be
transgressed by anyone that feels s/he has
more to write about a particular theme.
 Negotiate deadlines by trying to strike a
balance between their other commitments and
my responsibilities and institutional demands.
 Provide oral and written feedback and use
caring encouraging words when they manage
to successfully complete a new task or
overcome a particularly challenging activity.
 Modify assessment from a traditional
summative test to a more authentic form of
assessment. Since I consider all studentteachers as important agents in their own
learning, I gradually introduce peerassessment and self-assessment (vide Chapter
11).
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8.5.5 Difficulties in achieving a positive climate
All of the above can be encapsulated in the shift of attention from teaching to
learning. On a personal practical level, I had to work longer hours to read, comment
and suggest concrete improvements and on a more elaborate manner, I had to
rethink and redefine my role as lecturer, change my teaching style or better adapt
my teaching to their learning styles, and finally reconceptualise the link between
assessment and learning (vide Chapters 5 and 10). On the other hand, studentteachers had to: invest a lot more time for the successful completion of this studyunit; work harder to maximise their contribution and participation during the
‘dialogical’ lectures; venture into new territory of self- and peer-assessment; …to
put it in a nut shell, they were encouraged all the time to become ‘autonomous
learners’ (Boud, 1988; Wiliam, 2007) in a higher institution.
However, my good intentions were not always perceived as I intended them. For
example one slippery area was those few minutes, usually not more than five
minutes every two or three lectures, where very informally I would make a sort of
advert for the latest printed book or suggest in a creative manner a book that related
to that particular time of the year. However, some student-teachers later (after they
finished their course) told me that they perceived my initiative as a way of saying,
“you don’t read enough or as much as I do!” Others, on the other hand, have made a
small collection out of the books I have recommended, and boast that they read all
of them too.
In conclusion, improvement in the teaching and learning process requires not just a
lecturer that is willing, determined and motivated to change and improve his own
practice, but also an audience made of a number of individual student-teachers that
is perceptible, resolute and committed to that same change process.
8.6
Vignette III: First lecture
I always envision the first lecture as crucial to set the scene, create and heighten expectations and
set a tempo for the rest of the study-unit. And since teaching literature relates amongst other
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genres with stories, I always opt for reading and discussing one told by Clare Winnicott (in Britton,
1993: 29-31).
I enter into the lecture room, wait for silence and then I read the story, emphasising particular
words or images. I make sure to constantly maintain eye contact with all student-teachers as if I
was recounting the story just for them, one by one. I purposely calmly pace my reading and wait
for a while before continuing reading the subsequent paragraph. This gives them time to reflect
and empathise with the characters, recreate the feelings and emotions, visualise the context, and
to identify with the young boy. The discussion that follows focuses on one or more of these broad
themes: conformity; children’s rights; teachers’ role, responsibilities and authority; the evocative
meaning of colours; and most important of all, how this account relates to becoming teachers of
literature.
Generally speaking, literature motivates students, and stories are a good vehicle to do just that
(Meek, 1971: 105-110). In addition, empathy is a necessary skill that helps the reader understand
better characters, problems and situations from the point of view of other people (Simmons and
Deluzain, 1992: 4-5; 265). Thus, using stories at the very beginning can be considered as an
effective introduction:
One other thing that I really appreciated was the fact that our lecturer kicked off
the lecture with a powerful introduction that encouraged me to follow and
participate during the lesson. The story that we listened to left me speechless,
mostly because it struck a chord with what I think. [….] Frequently I found myself
identifying and empathising with this character mostly because I saw in him the
plight of many Maltese students that unfortunately fall on deaf ears. One of the
boy’s learned characteristics is that of passivity; conforming rather than having to
be the outcast/l’Etranger; society does not permit one to be that creative.
(Mary, Reflective Diary, 2/10/2003)
Interestingly enough, Mary immediately identifies with the boy, and considers him as a symbol of
many Maltese students. The bi-polar ‘activity/passivity,’ so dear to feminist critics like Hélène
Cixous (1975/1988: 287), is contextualised to a more pressing analysis of local educational culture.
Within modern teacher education programmes, student-centred pedagogy is the bastion of
creativity, individuality, and self-expression.
A student-centred literature class is one which allows more exploration of the
literary text by the learners and invites learners to develop their own responses
and sensitivities. It leads learners to make their own judgements and to refine
and develop their techniques for doing so that they can apply them to a wider
range of texts for their own benefit.
(Carter and Long, 1991: 24-25)
Rather than accepting reality as is, she identifies her role of “a teacher as an agent of change”
(Price and Valli, 2005).
As I am studying to become a teacher, I would like to make every effort not to
become like the teacher in the story. I do not want my students to draw boats
and planes. I would like to become a teacher that always searches and celebrates
the diversity of my students that guides them to become what they really are. I
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would like to be that kind of teacher that searches for individual talents and
characteristics of each student, so as to celebrate these differences.
(Doriella, Reflective Diary, 4/10/2003)
Indeed, stories speak with greater force than any other language. If not with and through
literature, how could one achieve such immediate insight and self-awareness?
8.7
Study-unit description
Equally important as planning of teaching environment and fostering of a positive
climate, is the articulation of a study-unit’s aims and content.
Study-unit
descriptions act as a binding written contract between three key participants: the
lecturer, the institution (Faculty and University), and the students. I wrote the studyunit’s description in great detail, following both my university’s requirements:
study-unit’s title, code, value, aims, essential reading or textbooks, mode of
assessment; and supplementing further details: lecturer’s contact details, language of
instruction, tentative study-unit outline or content to be covered, and further reading
or reading pack).
8.7.1 Objectives of the study-unit
Objectives have to be carefully and purposely selected.
In addition, pertinent
pedagogically relevant material is selected and used to reach those aims. Objectives
“tell your learners where they are going and how they are going to get there. They
tell you [lecturer] how you will know when the learners have arrived” (Forsyth,
Jolliffe and Stevens, 1999: 71).
Table 8.3 comprises the objectives that were
selected for the methodology study-unit ‘The Literary Experience in the Secondary
School.’ While the study-unit’s description remained nearly the same, the aims, the
selection of content and sequencing was slightly different.
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Table 8.3: The objectives for the study-unit
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
2003-2004
Discuss the objectives for the teaching of
literature within a first language
framework.
Familiarise themselves with the
organisation of the attainment targets for
the literary experience in order to be
capable to construct a small syllabus
according to specific pupils’ needs.
Choose literary texts according to the
abilities and interests of different pupils.
Select, develop, experiment and evaluate
methods, strategies and resources
employed in the teaching of literature.
Create a portfolio that reflects their
journey in becoming teachers of
literature focusing on their six week
teaching practice experience.
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
2004-2005
Identify and discuss the objectives for the
teaching of literature within a first
language framework.
Familiarise themselves with the
organisation of the attainment targets for
the literary experience in order to be
capable to construct a small syllabus
according to specific pupils’ needs,
abilities and literary competence.
Design a literature lesson for a mixed
ability classroom in a secondary school.
Choose literary texts according to the
abilities and interests of different pupils,
and that are representative of the whole
spectrum of Maltese literature.
Select, develop, experiment and evaluate
different methods, strategies and resources
employed in the teaching of literature.
Create a portfolio that reflects their journey
in becoming teachers of literature focusing
on their six week teaching practice
experience.
Participate in the creation of rubrics
(criteria and description) that would be
used in the assessment of this study-unit.
(underlined words indicate new ideas or elaboration
upon the previous year)
8.7.2
Reading for… The supplementary reading list or Reading Pack
One distinctive feature of my study-unit description was the list of selected texts for
further reading. There was a marked difference in quality and quantity of these texts
intended to offer a variety of perspectives and complement what was discussed
during the lectures. Furthermore, the wider reading list is a mirror of my own
enthusiasm and passion in the field. From ten chapters or articles with the first cycle
the number increased to thirty articles and chapters, mainly from recent books on
teaching literature with a reader-response approach as their general philosophy. The
list featured key figures like Louise Rosenblatt, David Bleich, Judith Langer and
John Willinsky all American pedagogues, and British authors such as Michael
Benton, Ronald Carter, Michael Long, Mike Hayhoe, and Mark Pike.
I took
particular care to include women writers. The only ‘missing’ component in the
reading list was and still is published research on teaching literature in Maltese. I
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tried to compensate for this evident gap by giving free access to dissertations written
during the last five years under my supervision. In hindsight, I must acknowledge
that the second longer list is too wide in scope and detail; and the following year a
more focused reading pack was assigned.
8.8
Vignette IV: Reading has a history too
Reading too has a history (vide Manguel, 1997). And learning to read forms an integral part of that
history. During this lecture the student-teachers work through three reflective tasks (vide Appendix
A) specifically tailor-made to tease out any “critical incidents” (Tripp, 1993) in their early and not
so early experiences of learning to read. As Meek (1988: 4) suggests: “The only necessary condition
for this exercise is that you should tell yourself what you already know you know, as if you were
thinking of it for the first time.” In addition, the student-teachers are encouraged to share their
literary preferences that include not only selected texts they consider worth reading, but also their
own rituals when reading.
The first year experience was rather difficult, even if with the detailed prompts. However, life was
much easier second time round. I observed and noted in my research journal, a more pronounced
and enthusiastic involvement from nearly all student-teachers in the second cycle. At that time, I
could only attribute this amelioration to one thing:
Last year I noticed that they [student-teachers] could not conceptualise or found it
difficult to imagine what I was asking them to do. Explaining without showing was
rather tricky. I could have produced a ‘fake’ example myself, just to set the ball
rolling, but at that time having read Bloom’s (1997) famous essay “anxiety of
influence” I was set in my belief that it would have been better not to share models
of good practice convinced that later on the students would only replicate them.
Notwithstanding such a conviction, with the new group I introduced the lecture with
just two selections from last year’s reflective writing: one very descriptive and the
other evidencing critical thinking. After reading and discussing the two examples,
they immediately could envision what they may be able to produce. Actually I need
not stress the importance of artefacts, since they all brought along a number of
battered books, school and extra-curricular certificates, old sepia Polaroid
photographs, worn out bookmarks… I was simply impressed with how an example
could produce such a good quality reflection. I must use the same spring-board
technique often.
(My Research Journal, 11/11/2004)
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8.9
Knowledge: Between tradition and innovation
Biggs (1999: 73-76) positions ‘A well structured knowledge base’ or ‘A base of
interconnected knowledge’, as the first and most important element of good teaching
at higher education. As Berliner (1990: 87-88) explains: “The choice of content is a
crucial planning decision because it influences one of the most important
characteristics of the schooling process – provision of an opportunity to learn.” The
quality of learning is intimately linked to the breath and depth of knowledge a
lecturer has mastered during years of reading. Knowledge needs to be transformed
or translated in a pedagogically relevant form.
For lecturers, the intersection
between knowledge and pedagogy is crucial. Knowledge per se is hollow, for even
the scantiest of textbooks or any encyclopaedia can contain more knowledge and
information than it is humanly ever possible to remember. Therefore, lecturers
require a different kind of ‘knowledge.’
Teachers must not only be capable of defining for students the
accepted truths in a domain. They must also be able to explain why a
particular proposition is deemed warranted, why it is worth knowing,
and how it relates to other propositions, both within the discipline and
without, both in theory and in practice.
(Shulman, 1986: 9)
Knowledge is a contested ground for a number of interested groups: politicians,
parents, students, religious authorities, people working in the industry, to name just
a few. Currently, heated debates abound on what should be taught, by whom, to
whom and when. “Education itself is an arena in which these ideological conflicts
work themselves out…” where different interested groups “attempt to define what
the socially legitimate means and ends of a society are to be” (Apple, 1993: 17).
Knowledge is related in more than one way to power (Foucault, 1980; Apple, 1995).
And within university, a lecturer’s declared role is to ‘officialise knowledge’ in a
regulatory act.
Within the field of teaching literature there are no hard and fast rules, especially so
in Malta, where the local context, and teaching traditions and subject philosophy are
different from those of the United States or United Kingdom, even if the educational
structure borrows a lot from the latter. In the absence of any guidelines, I had to
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synthesise and elaborate knowledge considered essential in my own interpretation of
the local context’s tradition and with an eye on the future developments in the light
of the sign of the times. Furthermore, I consulted a number of textbooks on the
same topic (Probst, 1987; Beach and Marshall, 1990; Simmons and Deluzain, 1992;
Showalter 2003; Carter and Long, 1991; Benton and Fox 1985) and at least one
useful survey of the research conducted on the teaching of literature (Andrews,
2001). These were valuable in the process of identifying particular themes that later
were developed into lectures that tackled local issues, examples and concerns (vide
Table 9.3). They provided the necessary theoretical framework to couch my prime
preference: a reader-response approach to teaching literature.
A list of topics covered during the eight month duration of the study units, is
represented in Table 8.4.
Table 8.4: Topics covered in the study-unit
Topic
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
Lecture Title/Description
Why teach literature? Three paradigms and their influence in the teaching of Maltese
literature throughout the short history of teaching Maltese
Imagination and the secondary world: What happens when we read a story? What happens
when we read a poem?
Images of a literature teacher – the literature teacher’s role
What does literary theory have to do with the teaching of literature?
The attainment targets for literature component in Maltese
A critique of the syllabus mandated by the State for Form 1 to Form 4, and the compulsory
Secondary Education Certificate syllabus for Form 5
Principles in the selection of texts and censorship issues
Different structures of a literature lesson
Reading (Voicing / Performing ) a literary text in class: From principles to practices
The evaluation and effective use of compulsory textbooks
What is a reader-response approach to teaching literature?
How to conduct a discussion in class around a text or more texts
Questioning technique in the literature classroom
Response through art and drama
The paraphrase and literary essay in examinations
The evaluation of a literature lesson
These topics are an amalgam of traditional and new. The reason behind both
selection and development of a topic was grounded in my conviction that studentteachers are to become professional reflective literature teachers, working within but
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not totally absorbed or subservient to the local context, with an aspiration for
innovation. The different topics can be categorised or collapsed in the following six
sections as figured in Table 8.5.
Table 8.5: The different topics covered during the study-unit categorised under topics
Category
Topic/s
1.
An overview of different theoretical orientations of teaching of literature
1, 2, 4, 11
2.
Identity of a literature teacher at secondary school
3
3.
Familiarisation with local official documents related to teaching literature
5, 6, 10
4.
Designing and evaluating a literature lesson
8, 9, 16
5.
Simulation in selecting literary texts for secondary school classroom
7
6.
Experimentation with different teaching literature techniques
12, 13, 14, 15
First of all: tradition. Even if Malta is a small island, it developed its own particular
traditions of doing things and particular ways of how to think about them. The first
step, in trying to circumscribe a field that little attention was paid to, was by
scrutinising the present way of teaching literature and trying to find historical
reasons for such practice. In this process I consulted two types of documents:
official national syllabi, and textbooks used during the past seventy years to teach
literature (an overview of these documents can be found in Table 9.7). I found
particularly useful local textbooks since they were (and still are) the tools whereby
what is considered important is transmitted to future generations.
Particular to the local context is a conservative ideology. Textbooks rarely change.
This is particularly so, since the State distributes the textbooks at the start of the
scholastic year and collects them back, at the end of year. Investment in new
textbooks is very rare, rather than considered as an opportunity for renovation and a
sense of amelioration and rejuvenation of the tradition in a particular subject.
Textbooks set and embody a particular way of thinking about a subject that is
generally representative of a ‘common-sense’ world view. For example, whilst
Carter and Long (1991) distinguish between two traditions in teaching literature:
text-centred and student-centred, with the latter being the most progressive, in Malta
there is still great emphasis laid on the author and his (very scantly, her)
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contribution to the great tradition of Maltese literature (vide Chapter 9). Therefore,
textbooks conserve the ‘great tradition’ and the different texts considered by many
as ‘touchstones’ of where quality resides. But the tool is in the hands of a teacher
that makes use according to his/her philosophy. This is easier said than done, for as
John Bencini (2008) who is also the current President of the Malta Union of
Teachers, rightly points out:
At times, teachers feel they are not trusted and teaching methods are
imposed on them, and they feel their professional expertise is
undermined. [….] The professional freedom of the teacher is of crucial
importance in developing quality in education. Yet some teachers
complain that they are being told what to teach, how to teach, when to
teach and so on. Teachers, at times, feel they are being treated like
robots and all they get is orders from above and that their professional
autonomy is next to nil. Teachers feel that teaching has become the
most scrutinized profession and they are being reduced to working
mechanically and heartlessly.
8.10
Vignette V: Text(book) selection
Having the freedom and responsibility to select what one is going to teach is a manifestation of high
degree of “pedagogical authority” (Bourdieu and Passeron, 1970/1990). It would be a living proof
that school authorities believe in teachers as professionals. However, in Malta, texts and textbook,
especially in State schools, are regulated from above and not left in the hands of teachers. At the
same time, little if no effort is invested in the pedagogical quality of the literary experience in the
classroom. This topic lends itself brilliantly to an opportunity to explore practical ideas such as
length, book availability, and language use, with other theoretical ones such as canon, censorship,
and ideology. Teachers rarely realise that their selection and engagement with a particular text
reflects, consciously or unconsciously, a theoretical position, a set of values of what it means to
teach literature. Their everyday practice is theoretical even when they don’t admit or name it as
such; to quote Terry Eagleton (1996: x): “Hostility to theory usually means an opposition to other
people’s theories and an oblivion of one’s own.”
While many student-teachers were aware of the canon, little were they conscious of the hidden
meaning of such a selection, especially in imparting values and marginalising others. Literature is
profuse with values, such as the portrayal of a Maltese family. Reflecting on the kind of family she
portrays in the texts she selects (or others have selected) Julie, for her very first time, becomes
aware of the implications such a decision has on her pupils.
If in class I introduce a story about Paul, a boy from a traditional family, with the
father as bread-winner and mother as a housewife… the kind where his father
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arrives home and finds his wife waiting for him with supper already on the dining
table… What kind of message on reality am I transmitting?
Things have changed, and we as teachers should know better. I ask myself: Are we
doing right when we select one kind of family-story and shun all other horizons? Are
we transmitting a mono-culture that does not value diversity? Is it the right thing to
do, not to venture afar from the traditional? There are those that are of the
opinion that reality is to ugly and cruel to bear, so better leave literature as a
dream. [….] As a prospective teacher I will think twice before selecting a literary
text to use in class. Is it unfair and unjust towards those pupils who come from a
different kind of family not to be portrayed? When I am selecting one kind of
culture, I am closing my pupils in a cage that has one small opening that is common
to all, thus hindering their wondering view point. Therefore, it would be best if I
select different kinds of texts with different kinds of life representations.
(Julie, Reflective Diary, 22/11/2004)
In her deliberation she is exerting pedagogical authority and defending diversity (rather than
integration) as a value. She is becoming “a reflective educator” (Reagen, Case and Brubacher,
2000) and an “ethical teacher” (Campell, 2003), committed to her consciousness, and committed to
resolve tensions within society. Furthermore, Julie’s actions and deliberations are in accordance
with Malta’s Teachers’ Code of Ethics (Ministry of Education, 1988): “The teacher shall act, and
shall be seen to act, with justice” and “The teacher shall exercise authority in accordance with the
law of the land and with evolving concepts of the pupil’s needs and rights.”
8.11
The seeds of innovation are to be found in the tradition
Reflecting on discussions on curriculum in American schools and colleges, Arthur
Applebee (1996: 3), reinterprets the role of tradition within the whole debate of
conservatism and progressive education:
Traditions can transform the individual, providing powerful tools for
understanding experience; individuals also transform traditions,
through the ways in which they make use of and move beyond the
tools they inherit; and to ensure that this continues to occur, our
traditions of teaching and learning must be transformed so that
students learn to enter into the ongoing conversations that incorporate
our past and shape our future.
Viewed in such a way, tradition is an asset rather than a convict’s stone or simply a
relic of the past. Tradition becomes the locus of change since from those roots
change can happen.
However, awareness of local tradition alone does not
automatically bring about change. The act of ‘moving beyond the inherited tools’
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needs some direction. This can only be achieved if one examines other traditions.
The key to innovation is in traditions in contact.
And the concept of praxis,
reflection that leads to action, is important for the dynamics of change in respect of
tradition.
To this end, rather than curriculum as a mass or body of immutable decontextualised
facts, Applebee (1996: 36) suggests two important metaphors: ‘curriculum as
conversation’, coupled with the idea of ‘knowledge-in-action.’ I find them both
intriguing. On one hand curriculum is a site of dialogue where different voices may
propose different ways of thinking about issues. Knowledge becomes a contested
ground rather than a fortified city.
This very much agrees with an idea of
knowledge in a state of becoming within the community of the dialogical classroom.
Students are asked to enter a domain. The question, then, should be how best
students can enter into the domain?
8.12
Vignette VI: Going to a bookstore… abroad
The phenomenon of reading literature forms an integral part of Western culture. Anthropologists
and ethnographers caution novice practitioners about the difficulty to read one’s culture; one’s
culture is used as an interpretative lens when trying to understand events (vide Mifsud-Chircop,
2000: 564). Thus, one becomes accustomed or so to say ‘habitualised’ (Shklovsky, 1917/1988: 20) to
one’s culture, without noticing its particularities and peculiarities. One becomes aware of one’s
culture, in this context the culture of reading and imagination, when one distances oneself from it.
This happened to Julie when she travelled to New York and Florida for Christmas recess:
Undoubtedly American culture is very different from European culture. While I
tend to like European architecture, I cannot but admire the tall high rises. As for
literature, American literature has a lot to offer, and with a vengeance.
Due to the very long distances I noticed that American people read a lot. I
observed this especially when commuting to Manhattan by public transport. I saw
a great majority of them lost in a book. Even at the train station I noticed people
reading.
At Manhattan I saw a number of mega-bookstores. One of them is Barnes and
Noble, that has a shop around all Manhattan. One can select or buy a book and
read it in a cafeteria within the same premises. This is an American tradition
since all cafeterias were jam-packed with people reading all the time.
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Another mega-bookstore is Strand, with over eight kilometres of book shelves.
Something really exceptional. I found a section on teaching and education in
general, and I was impressed how huge it was!
(Julie, Reflective Diary, 3/1/2005)
While Julie stops from reflecting on the local situation, she is amazed by the sheer quantity of
books and the reading style of Americans. She was still at the beginning of her course but she is
left to wonder why in Malta reading is mainly a school activity and how little reading forms part of
Maltese culture in general.
8.13
Tools for reflection and assessment
Instructional design puts a lot of emphasis on the selection and/or production of
resources to complement the teaching process. Indeed, it is with the aid of carefully
selected or designed resources that the teaching and learning process can effectively
take place.
Trying to find resources suitable to the teaching of literature to prospective teachers
is like trying to find a drop of water in the desert. To my knowledge, on the subject
of how to teach literature to student-teachers, little has been written and presented in
a textbook fashion in English (vide for example Lazar, 1993), and definitely none in
Maltese. Notwithstanding Gillian Lazar’s (1993) effort to present in a systematic
way a series of practical tips and techniques that literature teachers can use in their
classrooms, all examples, and understandably so, are in English. Hence, I felt it as
my imperative to devise my own resources. To suitably cover the areas that most
warranted my attention and student-teachers’ consideration, I wrote three types of
resources:
 A number of Reflective Tasks; or what Moon (1999: 170) calls “reflective
exercises” (Appendix A).
 A handbook for the development of a portfolio on the student-teacher’s first
experience in teaching literature (for an index of contents vide Table 9.4).
 Two rubrics for the assessment of the different components of the study-unit
(Appendix B).
I will analyse the resources’ characteristics and use according to two theoretical
frameworks.
One is resource design, also known as the production of “self209
instructional material” (Lockwood, 1998). The other analysis focuses on how these
resources were used to mediate learning, borrowing concepts from an activity theory
framework.
8.13.1 Resource design: Reflective tasks
Throughout the duration of my research, I found it particularly useful and effective
to design a number of reflective tasks. While it is difficult to distinguish between
“reflective and non reflective tasks” in so far as it is not possible to predetermine
“how the internal experience of another operates or the nature of the other’s prior
experience or her intentions” (Moon 2004: 92) are, I tried to follow as much as
possible insights developed from “self-instructional material” especially those aimed
at online courses or take-home exercises (Lockwood, 1998).
At the core of every reflective task were written questions. Each reflective task
consisted of a main question that was subsequently divided into smaller more
manageable ones. Usually these sub-questions were grouped according to broad but
sequential categories that, when taken together, move forward the argument or
reflection. Following Moon’s (1999: 175-176) advice, I tried my best to: devise
activities that simulate corresponding possibilities in teaching, posing open ended
questions, encouraging student-teachers to relate past experience to new theoretical
insights, devising tasks requiring them to reflect on their own judgements.
I experienced what Moon (1999: 172) warns about, that is that the more guided a
task, the more students will start to feel they are filling a questionnaire, without
actually developing their own thought. When I evaluated my reflective tasks, the
results sometimes indicated that student-teachers found it convenient to follow
directions rather than explore ideas on their own; but as students progressed and felt
more confident in their reflective writing, less structure was needed and provided
(Moon, 1999: 171).
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Table 8.6: Some advantages of using reflective tasks



They extend the learning time by a couple of minutes, if not hours.
Working on the reflective tasks can be considered as an autonomous learning experience.
Provide space for self-expression even to those student-teachers that are normally shy during
lectures.
They can meet different aims and touch upon a wide range of topics, possibly reflecting local
contexts’ needs.
They do not take a lot of time to construct, thus they can emanate from a theme, issue or a
dilemma explored during a lecture.
Can be administered or worked upon at a convenient time for student-teachers – in other words,
this material was specifically written to cater for their needs and to reflect local context.
Once finished and read/corrected, they can serve as a source for frank, individualised and
extended feedback to student-teachers.




8.13.2 Resource design: The portfolio guidebook
The second type of resource that I felt necessary to develop was a lengthy
guidebook on portfolio use during student-teachers’ first experience as teachers of
literature in a secondary school. One major difficulty was the conceptualisation of
this guidebook with particular reference to the teaching experience. While there are
countless books on portfolios (vide Shores and Grace, 1998; Paris and Ayres, 1994;
Shaklee, Barbour, Ambrose, Hansford, 1997), none of them explains what this could
mean for the teaching of literature in a pedagogy course. I can safely say that I
clarified the scope, and relevance of the guidebook especially after the first group of
student-teachers submitted their first portfolio.
I could better understand their
preoccupations, their doubts and fears. Finally, based on the lessons learnt from the
first experience, I settled for a shorter guidebook written more concisely, tackling
issues that were deemed important by student-teachers themselves.
illustrates the different sections and explanations of the guidebook.
Table 8.7: Contents of the portfolio guidebook
1.
2.
3.
Introduction
What is a portfolio?
Etymology and use
Portfolio and authentic assessment
The difference between a collection and a portfolio
The process (time-line)
Introductory meeting
The choice of content
The first evaluation
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Table 8.7
The conference
Final evaluation
Before presenting your final content
The presentation date
Assessment and evaluation
Exhibition
4. Portfolio’s content
Common content
Individual content
5. On the road of Reflection
Descriptive / Narrative Writing - Critical / Reflective
Writing
Exemplars
6. F.A.Q.
7. Past student-teachers’ comments on the portfolio
8. Conclusion
9. Glossary
10. Appendix
A sample of a typical portfolio
The school where you first taught literature
Your co-operating teacher
Your students
Your best resource used during literature lessons
Your best literature lesson
The reading act: performance and interpretation
Question to aid reflection before and after a conference
Reflection on the individual section of your portfolio
Final reflection on your portfolio 1
Final reflection on your portfolio 2
8.14
Vignette VII: Different models of a literature lesson
The scope of this lecture was to present different literature lesson sequences as developed by
different pedagogues, mainly a four stages model (Benton and Fox, 1997: 110); and a more
elaborate model (Benton, 1988: 205) that respects the complexity of response in the reading act
within the four walls of a classroom. All models assign the reading act prime importance. These
models are based on a reader-response approach to literature and post-reading activities usually try
to encourage a mature and shared response. Indeed, finally, every text has its own particular point
of departure and suggests particular activities.
Anne is struggling to make informed decisions based on the new insights gained during lecturing and
much deeper insights when reading the selected textbooks for this study-unit. However, she is
much aware of the contextual constraints that might inhibit her attempts to adopt a readerresponse approach to her literature lessons:
In [Maltese] schools, New Criticism is widely used and things change really slowly. I
was taught with the same method that is still used by most teachers today. I think
this happens because teachers end up teaching the way they were taught, and
therefore change never ‘actually’ takes place. I think that once I finish University
and I start working in a school, it is not always that easy not to be influenced by
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others that may be set in their own traditional ways. However, if you strongly
believe in what you learned about, you can be innovative… routine annoys
everybody! I was so accustomed with this method that I didn’t think of any other
alternative method. I was under the assumption that poetry and notes go hand in
hand, because that was what I had to write in exams.
(Anne, Reflective Diary, 14/1/2005)
Now I am more convinced that becoming teachers of literature is not a transformation in a few
seconds, or an epiphany, but rather an engaged dialogue between at least these forces: the
student-teacher’s prior held experiences and beliefs; the potential and motivation of each studentteacher to conceptualise a new way of structuring a literature lesson; and a thorough analyses of
the contextual forces that mould in more than one way the final version of a literature lesson in a
secondary school…
8.15
A question of reappropriating my language
The importance of developing resources in Maltese stems from a duty to develop the
native language. In my case I had to gather the most frequently used words in
education, and critically evaluate each one. This small endeavour of strengthening
the basic pedagogical terminology followed three avenues: delve deep into old
pedagogical writings and dictionaries to collect as many words already in use as
possible; critically examine each word; and finally, decide if (a) a particular
forgotten word still had the potential to effectively and unambiguously serve its
speakers or writer, or (b) a never-used word that has to be introduced in Maltese,
follows as much as possible the basic and natural consuetude of developing
neologisms. In Table 8.8 I selected a few examples.
Table 8.8: Some examples of basic terminology in English and Maltese
English
 study-unit
 time-table
 reading history
 literary
competence
Maltese
‘it-taqsima ta’ studju’
‘l-orarju’
‘l-istorja tal-qari
tiegħek’
‘il-kompetenza
letterarja’
English
 stance
 scheme of work
 aesthetic and
efferent reading
 reader-response
criticism
Maltese
‘qagħda’
‘il-pjan ta’ ħidma’
‘il-qari estetiku u għal
informazzjoni’
‘il-kritika
b’orjentament lejn ilqarrej’
While these few examples seem to be very simple and straightforward, a lot of
thinking took place.
I experimented with my student-teachers the different
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variations, and finally opted for one that I considered to have the most promising
future.
This terminology generating experience made me more aware how
important such a task is, and how later on, if followed by other speakers, it can make
life easier when talking and especially in writing since standardisation helps to
improve communication.
Therefore, writing my own resources meant that I was involved in a delicate but
fundamental process of reapproriating my native tongue and extending its limits in a
natural way so as to serve a new group of speakers and writers describing an old and
at the same time new reality without sounding strange or esoteric.
8.16
Vignette VIII: The teaching and lecturing continuum or tension
“I hate it when I stick to my plans without scanning and interpreting the student-teacher’s
moods. The writing is on the wall and yet with my lecturer’s eyes I simply do not read it!”
I wrote these two sentences in my Research Journal 25/4/2005 just a few days after the lecture.
When I deliver a newly prepared lecture, I know my weakness and shortcomings: I tend to be so
entangled and engulfed in the content that I miss completely the process. Actually underneath this
self-reprimand I find an unresolved tension I carry within me to this day. I believe I hold at least
two conceptions of a good lecture: the first is a traditional formal presentation of a body of
knowledge attained after reading numerous books on a specific topic to an audience; and the other,
an entertaining and if possible dialogical presentation of a synthesis of different positions attained
after reading countless books on a particular topic, that takes into account an audience’s needs and
abilities. Maybe they are not that diametrically opposite as one, including myself, might think. To
a certain measure, Louise Rosenblatt’s (1978/1994) distinction between efferent and aesthetic
reading offers a clue to how I might rethink this apparent bi-polarity, that is to consider these
orientations or conceptions as on a continuum rather than an either/or. Teaching and lecturing
could live together.
8.17
Resources as tools
The teaching activity lends itself to a description based on Activity Theory. Yrjö
Engeström (1987) considers school or school-going as “an obvious candidate for the
birthplace of learning activity.” While this may be the case, according to Gordon
Wells (2002: 43): “Activity Theory has not been used to any great extent to address
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issues of classroom learning and teaching…” Notwithstanding such a situation, I
find it rather useful to interpret the resource’s functions according to Activity
Theory, since at the heart of the teaching and learning act there is an ever evolving
interaction, or one might say, ‘activity.’ The concept of ‘activity’ was described by
Kari Kuutti (1996: 26), as a process that is “not static or rigid” and “under
continuous change and development”; characteristics that can be said also of the
teaching and learning process. However, it must be made clear that “Activity theory
is a powerful and clarifying descriptive tool rather than a strongly predictive theory”
(Nardi, 1996, p. 7); and that is what I consider the strong point of such a model.
Some basic tenets of Activity Theory (vide Nardi, 1996: 11-14) that can be
transposed to the teaching activity, are: consciousness and intentionality of the act;
the collaboration between different members of a community; the asymmetrical
relationship between people and things; the mediating role tools or artefacts have in
an activity; and an importance laid on the understanding of the artefacts’ role in
everyday existence, especially how they are integrated into social life.
The basic model explained by Engestöm (1987) – object-artefact-subject – clarifies
learning as mediated activity through an artefact.
The subject refers to the
individual student, whose point of view is chosen for analysis.
An object, in
Engestöm’s sense, may be defined as: “the ‘raw material’ or ‘problem space’ at
which the activity is directed and which is molded (sic) and transformed into
outcomes with the help of physical and symbolic, external and internal mediating
instruments, including tools and signs” (Center for Activity Theory and
Developmental Work Research, n.d. The activity system).
One important
component of any activity is that it always contains various artefacts that have a
meditating role (Kuutti, 1996: 26). Interestingly enough, these artefacts develop
within a cultural milieu, and contain “a historical residue of that development”
(Kuutti, 1996: 26. Based on the work of Gelperin, Anna P. Stetsenko (1999: 241)
defined “efficient cultural tools” as learning materials that:
(a) embody and reify the most efficient cultural practices of the
previous generations, in that (b) they express, in a condensed,
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generalised form, the essence of certain classes of problems or
phenomena by (c) representing the genesis of these problems or
phenomena and hence the logic – the templates of action and the
contexts where these actions can be applied – necessary for dealing
with them.
Figure 8.9 reproduces the often quoted model developed by Yrjö Engeström
himself, that schematically illustrates the relationships between the different
components.
Table 8.9: Engeström’s model of activity theory
While most interaction between members of the classroom community occurred
orally, both Reflective Tasks as well as the Guidebook made use of written
language. This might be a simple change of medium, however “writing restructures
consciousness”, “has been detached from its author”, and thus lives an autonomous
existence independent from its originator (Ong, 1982: 78). This argument is taken
forward by Engeström (1987) when he states that the written language tends to be
“decontextualised”, “definite” and “explicit.”
With these attributes, written
language “acquires an autonomous, self-sufficient mode of existence – it becomes a
text,” thus creating a possibility for reflection and a greater awareness of what
constitutes that language (Engeström, 1987). It is important to stress that while,
Engeström (1987) states that “it would also be incorrect to blame the inherent
properties of text for the quality of schooling,” at the same time…
My contention is that the object of learning activity cannot be reduced
to text. Such a reduction normally leads to the minimization of the
productivity of learning (text as a dead object), and even in the best
case to the narrowing down of productivity into intellectualism
(production of text only).
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When devising my reflective tasks, I intentionally chose to put emphasis on those
experiences I considered as illuminating or problematic. I was very much aware of
the ‘enabling’ and ‘limiting’ factors attributed to tools and artefacts. For as Kari
Kuutti (1996: 27) has rightly described:
…it [the tool] empowers the subject in the transformation process with
the historically collected experience and skill “crystallized” to it, but it
also restricts the interaction to be from the perspective of that
particular tool or instrument only; other potential features of an object
remain “invisible” to the subject.
I was aware that by the way I framed attention, by selecting some issues rather than
others, I knew that I was opening doors while closing others. What right did I have
to use my pedagogical authority and impose my way of seeing and interpreting the
local context? First of all, I was dealing with adults, tried as much as possible to
foster dialogue rather than lecture, suggest multiple sources or multiple references to
back my ideas, encourage self-reflection and dissent, especially when I shared the
role of assessor with the student-teachers themselves. Issues of power are always at
the forefront, but while I cannot level the differences between myself and my
student-teachers, I can always explain and negotiate my power.
8.18
Vignette IX: Why teach literature?
In a small state like Malta, the teaching of literature forms a central part of the teaching of the
Maltese language at both primary and secondary schools. Maltese literature finds justification
within the Maltese language syllabus, in one of the following or a confluence of these three
paradigms: the cultural/heritage model, the language/linguistic model, and the personal
growth/development model (vide Carter and Long, 1991: 8-10); also known as the heritage, the
linguistic and the personal development models. These broad reasons are very much similar to the
much criticised three of the five “views” proposed by Brian Cox during the late 80s where the
teaching of English is concerned (vide Davies, 1996: 38-43). These paradigms are not mutually
exclusive, but rather particular orientations to a field of study with its own particular knowledge,
skills, and values. Their influence spreads also to textbook selection, particular role that a teacher
takes in class, the type of exercises that are presented and form of assessment.
After filling a Reflective Task on the different models, the following week student-teachers were
handed out a legend with the tripartite categories corresponding to them: cultural, personal and
linguistic. Nearly all students were in great trepidation. The questionnaire gave the session a sort
217
of jovial atmosphere, and suspense was in the air like when waiting for the Oscars or Champions
League results to be announced.
Initially I could not understand why we were adding numbers, but then all of a
sudden the score we attained made sense and gained significance in the sense that
it was made clear that it pointed towards special factors.
I was the only one from my class to obtain the least marks for the third category
[personal growth]. Truly, I felt frightened and I did not feel enthusiastic about the
whole matter. I said to myself: “How come I always need to be different! What did I
do wrong?” But then I discovered that the third category was going to be the
fulcrum of this study-unit!
(Anne, Reflective Diary, 15/11/2004)
8.19
Vignette X: Durable belief in change
Towards the end of the study-unit, I feel exhausted and exhilarated at the same time, and probably
my student-teachers feel the same way. Reading through my Research Journal, I came across this
piece that explicates the dilemmas I felt after conducting one-to-one interviews with some studentteachers:
Today’s recording of interviews was a very tiring experience. I could notice beyond
any doubt how much they changed during the last eight months. They learnt a new
language with which to express themselves, and to struggle with when they find
that things are not as ideal as described during my lectures. I feel that insights on
teaching literature brought in them an uneasiness they did not have before when
things were apparently simple – I took away their innocence about the whole matter
of teaching literature. Did I do right or wrong when I presented them with a
reader-response model of teaching literature? I may never know the hardships I
have brought them in self-analysing their past, and forcefully embracing a new
paradigm that is not at all accepted with the majority of teachers in the system.
Was I exerting too much pressure on them when I ‘politely demanded’ (ah what a
contradiction!) from them to teach in a particular fashion? Ah ‘pedagogical
authority’ how demanding can you be! And were they only pleasing me in doing so,
and then change their belief system to the old or other way of thinking once they
become teachers and have an Educational Officer to please? I know that they
understood most that I preached, but do they really believe in what they listened
to? Have they really become response-based teachers of Maltese literature?
Tonight I have more questions than answers…
(My Research Diary, June 2004)
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CHAPTER 9
Four perspectives:
Reading history, beliefs in teaching literature, subject’s identity,
and images of a teacher of literature
9.1
Introduction
In this chapter, student-teachers’ perspectives on four key themes are explored. I
start off with a look at their reading biographies, then scrutinise their beliefs in
teaching literature, followed by an analysis of reflections on how they conceptualise
their subject, Maltese literature, and finally, discuss their images of a teacher of
literature. Each major theme is framed and introduced by a discussion of what
research has demonstrated or contributed to that particular perspective. This chapter
draws heavily on the student-teachers’ writings in response to a number of reflective
tasks (vide Appendix A), with extensive quotations marked by inverted commas and
the reference to the pertinent task name.
9.2
Premise for histories of reading: The roots of an identity
This section, ‘Histories of reading,’ rests on the premise which I consider finds best
expression in two fragments by Theodore Roethke (2005: 140): “My memory, my
prison” and “I am nothing but what I remember.” I can understand those for whom
their past is a prison from where they can never escape. Who can truly say that s/he
has no regrets or is pleased will all his/her past experiences? While working with
elderly people suffering from dementia I started to appreciate more the empowering
effect personal history has on the individual.
Entering the world of shadows
prematurely and sliding into forgetfulness, makes one lose identity and dignity. The
struggle against forgetting or falling in the oblivion is in fact the fight in favour of
memory and the future. The roots of an identity find fertile ground in the past. To
219
remember is not just a duty, but also a way of keeping in touch with our humanity.
As Harold Bloom (1993: 17-18) put it: “Forgetting, in an aesthetic context, is
ruinous, for cognition, in criticism, always relies on memory.”
9.2.1
Language teachers’ beliefs
It has been contended that initial teacher training is most effective when reflection is
embedded in the programme (vide Chapter 4), both when conceived as a sub-skill of
writing (vide Bolton, 2001; Hillocks, 1995), but also, and possibly more rewarding
than that, when it becomes the overarching ‘philosophy’ of the whole course
(Zeichner and Liston, 1996). One way of initiating the reflective process within a
teacher training course is by adopting various techniques and methods to make
explicit and scrutinise past experiences and beliefs (vide Griffiths and Tann, 1992).
I agree with Jan Nespor’s (1987: 326) conclusion: “The development of beliefs over
time, as a product of teachers’ long-term comprehension of different contexts for
teaching would appear to be similarly difficult to predict, control, or influence.”
This is further reinforced by Michael Fullan’s (1991: 296) contention that: “The
relationship between prior beliefs and program experiences is crucial, complex, and
not straightforward.”
Beliefs differ in strength “depending on just how sure the person is that a particular
object does indeed possess a certain attribute” (Block and Hazelip, 1996: 25). Some
are more malleable, others more difficult to change – even if the difference between
the two is not always clear-cut. Language teachers belief systems can be subdivided
into these four sections: beliefs about the subject; beliefs about learning and
teaching; beliefs about the curriculum and programme of study; and lastly, beliefs
about the profession of language teaching (Richards and Lockhart, 1996: 32-41).
Student-teachers’ present day practices, knowledge, beliefs, principles and values,
find their justification in past experiences and memories (for a summary of research
on teacher beliefs, vide Nespor, 1987; Pajares, 1992; Richardson, 1996). Indeed, as
stressed by Nespor (1987: 323): “to understand teaching from teachers’ perspective
220
we have to understand the beliefs with which they define their work.” The intimate
relationship between actions, beliefs and change, can be summarised thus: “Beliefs
are thought to drive actions; however, experiences and reflection on action may lead
to changes in and/or additions to beliefs” (Richardson, 1996: 104). There are three
main sources for the “formation of strong and enduring beliefs about teaching and
learning”: personal experience; experience related to schooling and instruction; and
experience with formal knowledge, including school subjects and pedagogical
knowledge (Richardson, 1996: 105-106). Belief systems “rely more heavily on
affective and evaluative components” (Nespor, 1987: 319) and “frequently involve
moods, feelings, emotions, and subjective evaluations” (Nespor, 1987: 323).
Different groups of student-teachers, depending also on their gender, share different
beliefs and attitudes (Richardson, 1996: 113).
If these prior experiences remain unexamined during an initial teacher training
course, their lasting, maybe stifling and perhaps debilitating effect might temper
with the desired outcome, that of producing “change agents” (Stuart and Thurlow,
2000: 113). Consequently, I strongly believe that in teacher training courses, it is of
paramount importance that “teacher candidates’ prior experiences and beliefs be
carefully addressed as part of their teacher preparation” (Long and Stuart, 2004:
289) and how crucial “understanding preservice teachers’ prior beliefs to inform
supervision and university course design” (Hollingsworth, 1989: 160) is. Raising
hidden beliefs and tacit values to consciousness should be a constant feature in
teacher education courses that aim at reflection as a key feature of its philosophy.
Change in the “complex, subtle, and multifaceted” realm of beliefs and attitudes,
requires at least “an intervention process of similar order of complexity” if it is
likely to succeed at all (Hill, 2000: 61).
Intellectual growth in the form of increasing awareness, understanding,
and ability to deal with complexity, uncertainty, and ambiguity is more
likely to occur, and to occur rapidly, in contexts that allow students to
experience powerful emotional and intellectual challenges within a
supportive context, and to engage in a continuing cycle in which
meaningful practice is built upon theory and is reflected upon with
peers and university tutor within a critical framework.
(Hill, 2000: 61)
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Change in beliefs, can be interpreted in different ways. There are those that concur
that it rarely occurs at all as planned. For example Harm Tillema (1998: 217) argues
that change in beliefs doesn’t happen as intended or desired, indeed it is most
probably “a conceptual change which is modified by escape routes and alternative
conceptions to which the student teacher can revert in order not to have to change or
assimilate new or disconcerting information.” Then, there are those that argue that
change “results are complex” (Richardson, 1996: 111), and difficult to attribute the
effects of programme structure to change in preservice teachers’ beliefs. This is
more so when one accepts the notion that the beliefs do not share equal strength.
Belief-change, as well as values-change brings to the foreground issues of ethics and
power: Who is the teacher to enforce a belief examination? How are belief systems
and values evaluated? By whom? By what criteria? With what authority does
belief change come about?
9.2.2
A short note on methodology of autobiography or personal literary
history
Writing an autobiography is one effective way of exploring prior experiences and
how they form and transform current beliefs and practices. A reading history also
known as a ‘literacy history’ (McLaughlin and Vogt, 1996: 34) or its counterpart
“writing autobiography” (Richardson and Adams St. Pierre, 2005: 974) may be an
effective and productive way of getting to know oneself. A reading autobiography
demystifies, cultivating the subject’s voice, enhancing the process of self and World
exploration (Richardson and Adams St. Pierre, 2005: 973). It cannot be stressed
enough that “the affective and emotional components of beliefs can influence the
ways events and elements in memory are indexed and retrieved and how they are
reconstructed during recall” (Nespor, 1987: 324). Furthermore, “[s]tudent teachers
are also very capable of constructing their own anecdotes about their experiences as
learners, and … I do see many possibilities in this approach for helping teacher
educators to see their practice differently” (Loughran, 2002: 36).
222
At the same time, I am very much aware about student-teachers’ idea of assignment,
that construes response in a codified form not easily forgotten. Furthermore, I am
aware that to a certain extent I conditioned their narrative, since initially I was to be
their sole reader and even if I stressed that this was not the normal assignment with
grades, I cannot exclude that some perceived it to be just another assignment. At a
later stage, when they felt confident enough, they chose which parts to share with
peers during discussions, but by then, the reflective task was ready made with the
latter constraints. For a further elaboration of utilising this kind of data, vide
Chapter 8.
Working on identity and language, some researchers strongly advocate the use of
first person narrative since, “in the human sciences first-person accounts in the form
of personal narratives provide a much richer source of data than do third-person
distal observations” (Pavlenko and Lantolf, 2000: 157).
I shared Maureen
McLaughlin and Maryellen Vogt’s (1996: 34) aim for this task: to help student
teachers relate prior experiences with current ones. Therefore, it is not just narrating
one’s past, but trying to identify current beliefs and practices in the past. In doing
so, the learning experience is personalised, since each literacy history emerges “as a
unique record of a particular individual’s development” (McLaughlin and Vogt,
1996: 36) and the bridges with the present are distinctive as well.
Student-teachers were given frequent feedback consisting of probing questions to
broaden their reflection and analysis. One of my aims was to improve their work by
highlighting and delineating better the contours of a critical incident, suggesting
possible interpretations for the event or different points of view of how to read the
repercussions of what had happened. I also recommended linkages with ‘theory’
and theoretical insights to ground better their reflections, hopefully making it easier
to integrate their knowledge from different spheres more efficiently. In doing so, I
was not only practicing what I preach about assessment for learning and
constructivist classrooms (vide Chapter 5), but also acting as model for their practice
with a new generation of pupils. Moreover
223
…encouraging the episode to be reconsidered, developed, and
articulated through writing an anecdote enhances the meaning-making
from the action in the practice setting and can unsettle some of the
taken-for-granted assumptions about teaching that student teachers
have developed (are developing) and increase the likelihood that new
ways of seeing might emerge.
(Loughran, 2002: 37)
While being a unique story, the personal literary history written by student-teachers,
provided some individual differences of “well-remembered events” (Carter, 1994),
that contribute to my contention that their literary education shares common threads
with all the group since they have the same age, are nearly all female (except for
two males in the first group), come from a working class background, possibly the
first in their family to enter university, and with a keen interest in teaching.
9.2.2.1 Images and artefacts of early experiences
Once they presented their reading history, they were encouraged to add
photographs, artefacts or other pertinent documentation to supplement, explicate and
substantiate their memories.
They did so diligently.
The two male students
included book covers mentioned in their reflections. But the female repertoire is
more diverse and interesting. Many female student-teachers included: book covers,
demonstrating that they really kept the books they mentioned when still learning to
read; others went into a little bit more detail, and included a page or two from the
book; others included a selection of photos of school rituals like the class photo, a
prize day photo, or a play; some typed their favourite nursery rhyme or photocopied
an illustration from their favourite book; some, less in number, included home
photos such as themselves when young reading or holding a book, or dressed for
carnival as their most loved character; one student-teacher included a copy of one of
her compositions. Many of these school-related photos “provide perspectives on
who we have become” (Mitchell and Weber, 1999: 75) and in a sense “these
photographs take on a life of their own, a life that we can no longer control”
(Mitchell and Weber, 1999: 79). Their story is left unsaid until someone explains
the context, identifies the persons and breathes life into the emotional value of that
224
photo. The meaning of a photo can be divided into two: the personal meaning
which can remain hidden to the persons not involved and possibly with time
becomes forgotten too; and the social, a codified representation of a frequently
‘idealised and staged’ event or situation. Photographs and other artefacts provide a
vantage point to explore the past and its relation to the present (vide Peim, 2005a).
9.2.3
Early contact with the reading world
Student-teachers enter into the teaching profession course for a variety of reasons.
Most students in language teaching enrol because they ‘love the subject’ (Goodwyn,
2002) and possibly due to ‘love of literature’ (Ellis, 2003). This ‘love,’ if it is not
just a late infatuation, has developed rather gradually from other sources and
experiences going back as early as their infancy. According to Alberto Manguel
(1997: 71):
In every literate society, learning to read is something of an initiation,
a ritualized passage out of a state of dependency and rudimentary
communication. The child learning to read is admitted into the
communal memory by way of books, and thereby becomes acquainted
with a common past which he or she renews, to a greater or lesser
degree, in every reading.
Early experiences imprint on the student-teacher’s forma mentis a disposition and
set an attitude towards reading and all that is or may be literary.
“Books always had an important role in my life, and to this I have to
thank a lot my family and relatives since they were the first people that
instilled in me a love for reading.”
(Suzanne, Reflective Task 2: Reading History I – Early Memories)
A number of student-teachers did not relate well with reading. Secondary school
seems to be the main culprit. Coaching for examinations ruins the joy studentteachers have experienced in primary school. The devastating effects of formal
high-stakes examinations has been discussed earlier (vide Chapters 1 and 5), but this
is an authentic example of just one, major negative effect. However, not all may be
attributed to examinations. The innate and inconsumable passion for other subjects
or activities plays a decisive role too.
225
“Unfortunately, once I entered secondary school, the main aim of
reading was not joy anymore but superseded by the pressure to pass
examinations and to improve my English. Up to this day, I do not turn
to reading in my free time. Instead, I prefer to watch television or
paint. Even at University, when the major part of studies is related in
one way or another to reading, once I have some spare time to relax, I
do not look out for books.”
(Belinda, Reflective Task 2: Reading History I – Early Memories)
9.2.4
Gendered reading habits
Gender, while not a major feature of my study, seems to be a factor in the
development of a healthy attitude towards reading, or lack or it. While from the
cohorts I had only two male out of nineteen participants, their narrative of early
experiences of reading seems to be rather different than their female peers. This is
in line with what Andrew Goodwyn (2002: 69) noticed in his cohort: male writers
do not form a divergent group, the only noticeable difference from their female
counterparts occurs during mid to late adolescence. Their early memories are rather
faint – “I would like to state that my early memories related to reading are rather
few…” (Luigi, Reflective Task 2: Reading History I – Early Memories) – and they
don’t feel guilty about it; their interest in reading developed rather late when
compared to their female peers attending the same school; and their book selection
was more of non-fiction type, with biographies of football players top. These
gendered traits have been found in reading interests research both locally (Mifsud,
2005) and abroad (vide Millard, 1997; Hall and Coles, 1999). This is a brief
selection from James’s early thin memories…
“‘James, how come I never see you reading a book?!’ I’ve been
listening to these words probably from when I was born! I do not have
any memories related to reading. My mother recently told me that I
never liked reading, very unlike my sister who used to devour one
book after another. On the other hand, I was always thinking on how
to run, play with friends and eager learning to play a musical
instrument. As I got older, my parents used to buy me the National
Geographic World Series for the young, but I never particularly
warmed up to them. My personal library was inaugurated with the
first ever book I bought from my own pocket money: Eric Cantona:
The Red and the Black. It was a biography of the famous football
226
player that I used to admire a lot. To this day I like reading the sports
section of local newspapers.”
(James, Reflective Task 2: Reading History I – Early Memories)
9.2.5
Reading in English and Maltese
The dated ‘language question’ in Malta (Hull, 1993), or its contemporary
counterpart, bilingualism in Malta (for an educational context interpretation vide
Camilleri, 1995), is contentious with longstanding and unresolved local solutions.
Another interesting feature, especially at the very start of learning to read and the
first few years of reading, is the strong all pervasive reliance on books in English.
Parents, teachers and relatives put great importance on English:
“Literature in both Maltese and English was always an important
aspects of my education. However, I had to put aside Maltese
literature due to extreme pressure exerted on me by my parents and
some of my family members, especially one aunt, and also by my
teachers at school, especially those teaching English, that always
preached ad nauseam the importance of reading in English. I ended
up believing that reading in Maltese was a waste of time, since we
speak Maltese all the time, while English can be improved by reading
and watching TV only, and if I don’t perform well in English there is
the risk of not being able to follow other subjects that are taught
exclusively in English. Therefore, for a long time I set aside Maltese
literature, and on those few occasions that I read in Maltese, I felt
guilty, as if I was doing something wrong when not reading in English.
My enthusiasm to read in Maltese faded gradually, till I hardly if ever
opened a book in Maltese.”
(Gianna, Reflective Task 11: The influence of a literature teacher)
One major influence was Ladybird books, especially the famous Peter and Jane
reading scheme. These were mentioned nearly by all student-teachers.
“I still remember reading close to my mother Ladybird books. [….]
Peter and Jane’s characters in Ladybird books are two characters that I
will never forget. I still remember with joy their adventures. Then,
when I started attending secondary school, I used to buy ‘Readers’
Digest.’ Up to this day I enjoy reading stories from this magazine.”
(Priscilla, Reflective Task 2: Reading History I – Early Memories)
227
Children’s literature in Maltese is a relatively recent phenomenon.
The three
bibliographies of children’s literature in Maltese clearly demonstrate that this genre
was sporadic during the beginning of the twentieth century – with twenty or so
books between 1934 and 1970 (vide Żahra, 2002) – and even more so earlier (vide
Bonavia, 1979; Fenech, 1976; Żahra, 2002). One might say that the birth of modern
children’s literature in Maltese was exactly 1971 with the publication of two classic
books for children. From then on the industry flourished, with an average of more
than 15 books per year, and it is on the increase (vide Żahra, 2002: 43-54).
However, I am amazed that nursery rhymes taught to infants are only in English,
when the oral tradition in Maltese of these ingenious songs is as long and wide as
any other nation (vide Cassar Pullicino and Camilleri, 1998). There seems to be a
subtle colonisation of Maltese minds. As a native speaker of Maltese and a citizen
of Malta, I am infuriated about the process of identity loss.
Parents and
grandparents can be considered as contributing factors; they felt shy of their
patrimony and favoured what could be considered colonial values and culture. Yet
not everyone succumbs to colonial pressures, preferring foreign culture to one’s
own. For example, Northrop Frye (1964: 15) argues that: “The native language
takes precedence over every other subject of study: nothing else can compare with it
in usefulness.” This position is shared by others. A pragmatic comment from a
Maltese patriot of the eighteenth century, Mikiel Anton Vassalli (1796: XXVII),
reads:
Più che sarà il numero delle persone che leggeranno ed intenderanno
le leggi, minor sarà quello degli uomini che le violano. Perciò bisogna
ordinar nelle scuole d’impiegar per apprendere a leggere a’ fanciulli,
ora i libri di religione, ed or quelli della legge.
[The more people who know how to read and understand the laws, the
less would be the number of people who would break them.
Therefore, schools should emphasise the teaching of reading to young
children, be it religious books and/or those of laws.]
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9.2.6
Role models at an early age
Family literacy has a lot of importance in Malta. It is within the reassuring walls of
home that children start to read or encounter the literary world. Therefore, it stands
to reason that nuclear family members carry a lot of responsibility. A caring and
supportive mother frequently figures:
“As from when I was very young, I was fascinated by my mother. On
her bedside table I always used to notice a thick book, and after not so
many days, it used to change.”
(Suzanne, Reflective Task 2: Reading History I – Early Memories)
Acting literate from an early age has its importance as an early first step. Makebelief is vital to the development of a positive attitude towards reading:
“Since my mother had to take care of my younger brother, she could
not find the time to read me books. Instead of crying, I used to select a
book and feigned to read them. Some books were too difficulty for my
age and therefore I used to look at the pictures and create a personal
story around them.”
(Suzanne, Reflective Task 2: Reading History I – Early Memories)
At the same time it is interesting to note the nearly absolute absence of the father
figure in these early memories.
“I rarely saw my father for he used to spend long hours at work.
Reading was not his favourite pastime. Languages were never his
strength, and therefore he had some difficulties in reading. But he
knew that reading was important and he used to buy me books to read
and encouraged me to read more.”
(Suzanne, Reflective Task 2: Reading History I – Early Memories)
Grandparents take a vital role. They fill in for the lack of attention given by some
parents due to their other work-related commitments.
Their presence is duly
acknowledged by nearly all student-teachers. There were cases when grandparents
lived within the same household, making their presence more felt.
“I remember Saturday mornings going to my grandmother’s house. I
used to look for stuff in my uncle’s drawers, especially books. It is
here that I found Ġabra ta’ Ward [A Bunch of Flowers], the first
textbook reader for primary schools used by my grandmother years
earlier! Although in a bad state, in my heart was and still is a gem of a
book. In the afternoon, we used to sit together on the sofa, and she
would read or better still, recite, selections from this book.”
(Suzanne, Reflective Task 2: Reading History I – Early Memories)
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9.2.7
Memories from Primary and Secondary school
Two sources seem to play a distinctive role at this stage. Gradually the home and
family background receded, and teachers and other pupils come to the fore. Some
encounters with teachers, as much as they were fortuitous, at the same time were
unforgettable. Little things, such as, a classroom library, reading in front of the
class or school, participating in a play for the Prize Day, external motivation in the
form of positive reinforcement by the classroom teacher, listening to a story read on
a cassette, going to book fairs, and from time to time a book gift… these seem to be
the building blocks of future success and love of reading.
“When I was prompted to year four of primary school I had a
particular teacher, Carmel G. Cauchi, who already had made a name
for himself as a popular children’s author. During this year I came
across many Maltese written books, since earlier I read textbooks
mainly in English. Mr Cauchi made a small lending library in our
classroom, and every week we used to borrow books to read. To those
that read more than one book, he used to affix a star on a chart, and
when that pupil filled in the whole row, s/he would win a pen with
four colours… something special at that time.”
(Belinda, Reflective Task 2: Reading History I – Early Memories)
Females seem to conform to schooled literacy quicker than their male counterparts.
Their reading skills seem to develop earlier, and they enjoy and feel pride in
conforming (at least at primary level) to the system. Actually, there were instances
when the student was a step ahead of her teacher, creating undue frustration. This
seems to be the case with advanced students, symptomatic of a trend in classrooms
aimed to address the average student band, and forget to adequately challenge
students at the extremities:
“When still in Primary school, I remember that I did not find reading
lessons interesting, since the teacher used to stop to explain and at the
same time I was full of curiosity to carry on reading and see what
happened next. Quite often I would have already read the book we
were going to read in class.”
(Cleo, Reflective Task 2: Reading History I – Early Memories)
There are exceptions to this rule. For example, Marika greatly admired her teacher
and that led her to fall in love with Maltese literature, at secondary school. Special
attention by the teacher or assigning a role that gives pride to the student are all
230
ways and means through which pupils love their subject and then carry on studying
it at further and higher education.
“The love of Maltese literature, increased drastically in secondary
school. I believe that my teacher influenced me a lot in this. I used to
adore the way she read in class. She used to present literature in an
interesting way, and she would recommend other books for us to read.
Once, after listening to me reading in class, she used to select me to be
the class reader. This role granted me the title of ‘the journalist or
newscaster of the class.’”
(Marika, Reflective Task 2: Reading History I – Early Memories)
Reading in class seems to bring pride in many pupils and student-teachers. This
activity was even commented upon years earlier by Keenan (1879: 9-10), one of the
many Inspectors sent to Malta under the British:
Expressive or logical reading is out of the question. The usual habit of
the pupil is to pitch his voice in a loud key, and then, proceeding as
rapidly as possible, literally to roar out sentence after sentence until
some one brings him to a stop.
While the same situation can be said to learning Italian, Keenan (1879: 10) had no
doubts who was to blame for such a practice (present most probably to this day):
“The teachers themselves are responsible for it.” Nearly a hundred and twenty five
years later, Kim (Reflective Task 2: Reading History I – Early Memories) notes that:
“While at school I did a lot of jokes and shenanigans, I still remember
that the teachers used to practically always ask me to read in class. I
don’t know if he chose me because I knew how to read or just to give
me something to be busy at, rather than idling about.”
9.2.8
Access to book fairs
One common motivating experience seems to be the attendance at school book fairs
or national book fairs. The book fair gave a sense of ownership to those studentteachers that bought one of their first ever books out of their own pocket money.
“Around March at our school they used to organise a book fair.
Everyone was enthusiastic about this event. I used to collect ten cents
per week so that in March I could have enough money to buy my
teacher’s books. I still remember the first ever book I bought with my
own money: Ramon u Sardinellu [Ramon and Sardinellu].”
(Belinda, Reflective Task 2: Reading History I – Early Memories)
231
Another student-teacher enthusiastically remembers the day when she went to the
national book fair. But books bring along another set of memories that do not
exactly have anything to do with their aesthetic qualities; student-teachers’
memories of certain books relate to memories of situations and occasions when the
book was a springboard for a whole ritual or script:
“I remember that as a family we always went to the book fair. That
day used to be one of the most beautiful days because we used to go
around the different stalls, and check for the latest publications. We
always used to buy more than two books, and in my eyes that was a lot
of books! I still keep those early books in my library, and when I see
them it is as if I can listen again to my mother reading them to me.”
(Carla, Reflective Task 2: Reading History I – Early Memories)
9.3
Early beliefs in teaching literature
The second theme in relation to the process of becoming teachers of literature is
student-teachers’ early beliefs on teaching literature. Each subject has its own
curriculum history and philosophy. The nature and quality of the teaching/learning
experience within the literature classroom relates to the importance assigned to the
text, the student-reader, the author and the teacher. There have been longstanding
disagreements the value of teaching literature (vide Showalter, 2003: 22-24). Brian
Cox’s (1989) five model of teaching English has been influential and debated at
length for its ir/relevance (vide Davies, 1989; Goodwyn and Findlay, 2008). Ronald
Carter and Michael Long’s (1991: 2) three arguments, that “transcend the particular
circumstances, places and contexts,” are presented in Table 9.1.
Table 9.1: Three paradigms of teaching literature
Perspective
Description
The cultural model
Emphasis on a narrowly
selected canon conceived
as the great heritage,
evidencing reverence to
the texts and authors.
Close reading is the
preferred method of
reading. Probably
segmenting the body of
literature in periods is also
prevalent.
The linguistic model
Emphasises the stuff of
literature words, their
syntagmatic and
paradigmatic
relationships, analysing
deviations from the
norm, bring the studentreader close to the best
of thinking and
expression with a
community or nation.
232
The personal growth model
Putting the pupil’s exploration
and engagement with the text
at the fore. Cultivating a
response-based classroom,
helping pupils read texts
autonomously. The reading
act considered as an event
individual, unrepeatable
experience that can be shared
within the classroom to
improve the literary
competence of each individual
reader.
I devised a simple questionnaire (Reflective Task 5) that was distributed to all
students just days into the study-unit. They had to fill in all statements on a liker
scale from 1 to 5. Table 9.2 describes the results obtained by the two group of
students added together (19 student-teachers in all). One student obtained exactly
the same result in all three categories; added because influential in the final result.
Two students obtained exactly the same result in two categories (cultural model and
personal growth model, and linguistic model and personal growth model); added in
both categories thus the total is 23. The results mirror the complex relationship
between initial beliefs of teaching literature and a reflection of how students were
taught literature.
Table 9.2: Reasons for teaching literature obtained by student-teachers at the start of
the study-unit
Number of student-teachers
Reasons for teaching literature
10
8
6
4
2
0
1
Cultural Model
2
3
- Linguistic Model - Personal Growth Model
To me, the most interesting result is not so much the fact that the cultural and
linguistic models obtained the same results, or that one student obtained the same
result in three categories, or the fact that two student-teachers had exactly two
categories with the same result. Instead, the most interesting result is the low
preference obtained by the personal growth model. When one considers that the
study-unit was to promote a reader-response approach to teaching literature – that
tallies most with the personal growth model – the difficulty of the task at hand is
apparent.
Since “the effects of curriculum should never be considered in isolation from the
kind of pedagogy that delivers that curriculum” (Gregory, 2001: 73), one initial task
was to identify and draw a web with the salient characteristics of a traditional
233
literature lesson. This was done as a group activity during a lecture; a discussion
ensued focusing mainly on hidden messages about the identity of the subject and
how knowledge and learning are constructed, and medium- and long-term effects on
pupils in such a system of teaching. One thing seems to be indisputable; “The
traditional method of teaching literature in secondary school is widespread, and is
practiced in all State, Church and probably in most Private schools too” (Gianna,
Reflective Task 6 – A description of a traditional literature lesson). For some
student-teachers, this was self-evident from even before presenting the information:
“I was and still am sure that the traditional method does not work,
especially in the long-term. It may seem to ‘work’ for passing exams,
and actually is efficient for the teacher since she does not have much
preparation to do, but for the pupils this method is full of drawbacks
and in effect is short-changing them in what literature teaching should
really be about.”
(Cecilia, Reflective Task 13: Looking at yourself as a teacher of literature)
This personal reflection tallies with what Carter and Long (1991: 3) wrote about
how to measure success in a literature lesson and curriculum:
…the test of the teacher’s success in teaching literature is the extent to
which students carry with them beyond the classroom an enjoyment
and love for literature which is renewed as they continue to engage
with literature throughout their lives.
Furthermore, following the discussion during the lecture about different paradigms
for teaching literature, I presented two seemingly opposite views, that are explained
in Table 9.3.
Table 9.3: Two different views of a literature classroom
Philosophy/Conception
Inspired by…
Method of reading
Critical Assumptions
Culture
Also known as…
Traditional
New Criticism, Russian Formalism
Textual analysis
Close Reading
Objective – Scientific
Individual practice
Methdological or Sequential
Text-bound
Subject-centred theories
(Showalter, 2003: 27-32)
Teacher-centred literature classes
(Carter and Long, 1991: 23-24)
234
Progressive
Reader-response Criticism
Personal and Community Response
Subjective – Impressionistic
Negotiated practice
An Event and Exploration
Reader-response
Student-centred theories
(Showalter, 2003: 35-37)
Student-centred literature classes
(Carter and Long, 1991: 24-25)
Then, in Reflective Task 6, students had to describe an exemplary lesson according
to the traditional paradigm that they were accustomed to. Indeed, reading through
the student-teachers’ reflections, I found a number of assertions about the traditional
method of teaching literature: “In my five-year experience as a student of literature
at secondary school I met exclusively teachers that embraced the traditional method
of teaching literature” (Cecilia, Reflective Task 13: Looking at yourself as a teacher
of literature). The qualities of a traditional literature lesson from the two sources
are listed in Table 9.4.
Table 9.4: Characteristics of a traditional literature lesson
Traditional literature lesson sequence
Hidden (and not so hidden) messages
 Scanty resources, usually just the textbook
and board
 Reading the whole text in class
 Individual work preferred; no group work
 Explaining a poem verse by verse
 Emphasis on literary terminology
 Exercises similar to a comprehension test
 The teacher dictates a note on the text
 Pupils listening passively
 Pupils have to replicate what the teacher says
 The syllabus is the rationale of everything
happening in class
 A monotonous method
 No variety – Passing through a set of routines
 No friendship but rather a distance between
the teacher and the student
 No personal response
 No space for personal reactions
 Pupils are just numbers in a class; impersonal
approach
 The teacher knows everything
 No space for imagination
 A singular method that annoys the pupils
 Teaching geared towards examinations
The information in Table 9.4 is supplemented by the narrative description of a
typical traditional literature lesson by Ella:
“The traditional method of teaching literature has a fixed structure that
does not change a lot, leading to a fossilised routine-based practice of
teaching. Even the texts tend to stay the same year in year out.
There are a number of steps that are followed in a rigorous religious
kind of manner, beginning with the sequence of texts depending if
according to the anthology or as they were listed in the syllabus. It is a
didactic method of teaching with strong emphasis on rote learning.
There is great emphasis on content; what is important is that a poem or
any other text is done with, not to engage the students and truly
appreciate a text. It is as if literature anthologies are subservient to
handouts or books with notes.
I still remember vividly a teacher of Maltese who stressed that if we
wanted to pass the imminent exam, we had to buy a copy of the notes
on the anthology; we had to study them in detail, parts of which by
heart, for they would help us pass the exam. That same teacher would
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not even let us ask any questions during the lesson and even
reprimanded us when we did so, since in his opinion we were hardpressed for time. Later that year this teacher went even so far as not
read the text in class – with the excuse that we were getting older and
therefore we should prepare the poems at home – and he would cover
two or three poems in one lesson!
The study focuses on literary criticism rather than the poem or text
itself. The poem or text are parsed in their minute parts, and there is
not enough importance given to aesthetic reading and what the pupils
experience when reading. The poem or text is set on the autopsy table
and technique is all that matters. Since the sequence is highly codified
and adhered to, there is no space for creativity and pupil’s emotions;
students are passive recipients. All lived experiences of the students
are set aside, so that notes and critical comment are given prominence
and considered as holy by the pupils.
In the traditional method the text is just an excuse to teach literary
terminology, new vocabulary, and a vehicle of information and facts of
sorts. In a few minutes, the time span of a lesson [circa 35-45min] the
teacher tries to squeeze in and out everything there is to say about a
poem or literary text. All learning is rather superficial, directed
towards exams that determine the future of us students.”
(Ella, Reflective Task 6: Description of a traditional literature lesson)
It is already apparent that schooling has given the student-teachers a mental template
of a traditional literature lesson and they have on their own arrived at a damning
judgment on such practice.
Their limit, at this stage, tends to be their own
experience. As stated by one student-teacher:
“When I was a student in a secondary school, the traditional method of
teaching literature was the method embraced and practiced by the
majority of my teachers. During my classroom observations during
the past two years in girls’ secondary schools, I came to the conclusion
that the traditional method is still practiced by most teachers,
especially those that are not anymore as young. However, I could
notice a difference among new teachers that were a little bit more
progressive… they involved their students, used background music
when reading a poem, utilised a lot of pictures to explain new words,
produced charts with students on famous poets, and this innovative
and collaborative work was part of the pupil’s assessed work.”
(Ella, Reflective Task 6: A description of a traditional literature lesson)
And since they are motivated to teach in a different way, at least initially, they are
eager to discover a new way of teaching, very different, if not completely opposite,
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to the way they were taught literature. The discussion that followed clearly showed
that they were already inclined to reject ‘the apprenticeship of observation’ (Lortie,
1975) model of teaching, and eager to familiarise themselves with a broad array of
other methods. To that end, as a lecturer I was willing and prepared to present
“extreme examples of innovative practices,” described by Pamela Grossman (1991:
350-352) as a process of “overcorrection,” a methodological practice that has been
proved to work in ITT courses. The student-teachers demonstrate a dissatisfaction
with the traditional way of teaching literature, but they know little about what could
be a viable, effective and innovative alternative. This desire is representatively
expressed in a comment at the very start of the study-unit:
“It has been two years now, listening to lecturers emphasising how
important it is to motivate pupils and paramount to engage them
during a lesson. As a pupil myself, I was taught literature in the
traditional method. I wish that by the end of this study-unit I will be
provided with an array of examples how to teach literature in an
effective and creative way; not exactly how I was taught literature. I
wish to be presented with a number of resources that entice pupils and
guide them reading in a pleasant way literature as if it was a vivid
lived through experience. I find it important to be presented with
different methods I could use to be an innovative teacher, or else
pupils might get really bored stiff, like I used to feel.
(Kim, Reflective Task 1: What would you like? A self addressed letter)
9.3.1
Perceived difficulties to break away from the traditional method
While conscientious student-teachers like Kim identify the limiting factors of the
traditional paradigm of teaching literature, they are very much aware that to change
to a more response-based approach is not easy or automatic. There are a number of
strongly-felt difficulties that may impede a flow of change, especially during
teaching practice (vide Chapter 10).
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9.3.1.1 Training at university
Student-teachers are fully aware of the forces that militate in favour of a status quo.
One’s past success or lack or it, and university training, are identified by Ella as two
possible factors leading to paradigm stability.
“One must consider that most teachers find it difficult to move away
from the traditional method because they are used to it, and it has
become second nature. Most teachers have achieved success and
obtained positive results thanks to the traditional way of teaching. The
fact that prospective teachers were trained in the traditional way, might
kindle a desire to move beyond that.
The teaching of literature at University may have part of the blame and
responsibility as well in what happens in secondary schools. At
University only traditional methods are used. Even the University’s
architecture, how rooms and halls are structured and organised looking
at the podium, reflect a not so hidden preference towards the
traditional method of teaching in general with the lecturer as the head.”
(Ella, Reflective Task 6 – A description of a traditional literature lesson)
9.3.1.2 Teachers themselves
One major stumbling block for change within the traditional paradigm of teaching
literature is the corpus of teachers that have been teaching in the traditional way for
years, especially in grammar-type schools where greater emphasis on examinations
is made evidently clear for all from day one. “The great defenders of the traditional
way of teaching literature are the teachers themselves” (Gianna, Reflective Task 7: A
description of a traditional literature lesson).
9.3.1.3 Pupils’ expectations
Changes in lesson sequence and activities might bring about resistance or
disciplinary problems, always high on teachers’ priority list. Therefore it stands to
reason that one category of difficulties rests with pupils’ expectations. Pupils are
accustomed to the traditional way of learning literature; they expect to be read to or
read in turn the whole text in class; suppose that they would copy or read a note on
the text; and anticipate they will have to work a handout with one or two exercises.
It is this familiarisation and habituation that then created problems for student238
teachers.
On teaching practice, student-teachers met pupils who have already
assimilated the traditional way of teaching literature and feel secure enough with it
(vide Chapter 10). They learnt the rules of the game early, and often know very well
what may lead to success. So the first lines of defence of the traditional ways of
teaching literature, within certain contexts, are pupils themselves. Having studentteachers believe in response-centred classrooms, does not immediately translate into
more reader-response classrooms. Pupils need to be convinced too. For example,
Victoria laments that:
“As teachers of literature we are responsible to elicit the pupils’
response. For me this was the most debatable point during all my
lessons. Not once was I in the middle of a lesson and I put to them the
famous question: ‘Would you have done like the character?’ Some
pupils would be ready to answer, ‘Why should you care how we feel?
It is not as if you care! Although the pupils that answered in that rude
way were only few, these few crossed my heart. I felt as if cornered,
without knowing exactly how to respond.”
(Victoria, Portfolio – A description of the students I was teaching)
For me the answer would have been simple enough… ‘Yes, I do care how you
feel!’ And then wait for their answer and elicit further response to demonstrate that
I was listening. But student-teachers may feel at a loss in front of difficult questions
that touch their beliefs or basic principles. The same student-teacher recognised that
by the end of the six weeks, “…nearly all pupils became aware of the importance of
response during the literature lesson” (Victoria, Portfolio – A description of the
students I was teaching). Suzanne experienced at least twice a similar situation, one
derived from information about pupils’ interests from the co-operating teacher, and
a complementary personal critical event:
“One particular teacher shared with me her disappointment about her
negative pupils’ reactions when she tried some different methods when
teaching poetry. Something along those same lines happened to me
too. Although the girls appreciated the resources I used to prepare and
the different activities I used to plan, in their eyes, the only relevant
aspect of the lesson was the periphrasis, or note. They used to claim,
not without some foundation, that in examinations they will be asked
to answer questions about meter, figures of speech, and the theme of a
text. The personal response is seen as irrelevant, and once, one pupil
remarked, ‘During an examination, we won’t be asked to compare
ourselves to a thing!’ …with clear reference to an activity we had done
previously, when I asked them to compare themselves to something,
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like what the poet had done in the poem ‘Arizona,’ when he likened
himself to a desert.”
(Suzanne, Portfolio – The school where I taught literature for the first time)
Working in a completely different school, Belinda had to endure a barrage of
students’ resistance not just about her methods, but probably more worrying than
that, about the very existence of her subject. At times, prejudice against Maltese
language and literature is difficult to eradicate. It finds its roots in what some
Maltese believe in, without foundations. It is a blunt bias against Maltese culture
and language.
“While my pupils did not find it difficult to air their views on texts, at
times they were rather hesitant and perplexed to accept the idea that
the same text can have more than one plausible interpretation. From
when they were very young they expected a note that presents what
they should think about a text. So they found it rather hard to write
their own notes under my guidance, to an extent that the co-operating
teacher told me that some pupils complained to her that they were
worried since they did not have ‘the notes’ to study for examination
purposes.”
(Belinda, Portfolio – The students I was teaching literature to)
“My experience teaching literature within this Church school was not
at all a straight smooth road. I can frankly say that I had to teach
students who loved Maltese as much as those that hated it. Many of
the students never touched a book in Maltese other than those that they
had to study at school. Furthermore, those students that did not like
reading in Maltese considered Maltese as an unnecessary subject in
their curriculum. Many of them said that they did not consider
Maltese at par with other languages, like English. For them, my
literature lessons were just taking valuable time from other subjects
they deemed important.”
(Belinda, Portfolio – The students I was teaching literature to)
9.3.1.4 Agents of change
If difficulties moving away from traditional teaching can be categorised as being
either intrinsic or extrinsic to the teacher, likewise the agents of change can be found
within the hidden powers of teachers’ conviction or exterior to him/her in what
might be termed, contextual forces.
Some of these factors are schematically
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represented in Table 9.5 many of which are based on student-teachers’ experiences
and reflections, in a number of Reflective Tasks.
Table 9.5: Agents of change within the traditional system of teaching literature
Forces of change within the teacher
 Self-motivation.
 Having a reflective attitude to be able to
identify shortcomings within current system.
 Personal conviction and commitment to
change.
 Embracing a calculated risk-taking outlook.
 A research-based informed conscious and
conscientious decision in favour of doing
things differently.
 A shared vision or a kindled dream of a day
when things can be different for teachers and
pupils alike.
9.4
Agents of change exterior to the teacher
 A general strongly expressed dissatisfaction
with traditional ways of doing things,
especially by parents and civil society.
 The consensus among similar subject teachers
that change needs to take place for the subject
to remain relevant to a new generation of
pupils.
 Insights given during in-service training to
practicing teachers.
 A change in the official syllabus.
 A revision in the type of official literature
examination papers and questions.
 More professional autonomy, authority and
responsibility given to teachers.
 New demands from the work-force as
expressed by unions and employers’
associations.
 Media coverage of the issue.
Identity of a subject
The third theme I want to discuss is that of the student-teachers’ ideas about the
identity of their subject.
Mainly for historical reasons, Maltese literature with
grammar forms the backbone of Maltese as a subject at secondary school. However,
this privileged position is rarely questioned or delved much into, especially among
Maltese teachers themselves. This state of affairs is not symptomatic of the Maltese
context only.
Ivor Goodson and Colin Marsh (1996: 1) write about the ‘historical amnesia’ within
the English context and the unspeculative mind of teachers and curriculum
developers on the provenance of their subjects which are mistakenly “treated as
taken-for granted ‘givens’.” However, different conceptions of a subject exist, and
for English the most common are the ones proposed by Brian Cox (1991). The
National Curriculum with a narrowing down of what constitutes English, seems to
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be crying out for a “discussion and debate within English, among English teachers
about the proper provenance, identity and practices of the subject” (Peim, 2003: 34).
I consider this uncritical stance towards English literature as a subject in secondary
school, as another limit. ‘The rise of English’ (Eagleton, 1996: 15-46) is not a
neutral historical account, but rather a struggle between competing beliefs,
ideologies, values, and people in power that decide for others what is, is not and can
be ‘English language and literature’ (for a critical account of the issue vide Peim,
2000, 2003).
Before entering a methodology study-unit, student-teachers consider ‘normal’ this
state of affairs of unquestioning the status of literature within the curriculum and
syllabus. One aim of my lectures during the study-unit on teaching literature was to
trace the roots of current practices of teaching Maltese literature at secondary
school, and with my student-teachers critically to examine their provenance and
status. School subjects are never neutral or value-free enterprises, but rather they
are “the most quintessential of social and political constructions” (Goodson and
Marsh, 1996: 1).
The story of literature in the Maltese syllabus concerns “the way in which a subject
is defined by one group according to their background and interests, it is likely that
it will be less meaningful to other groups” (Gipps and Murphy, 1994: 3). Table 9.6
also corresponds to a detailed index of a thin pack of primary sources from the past
and present on the teaching of Maltese literature, that during lectures served both as
a genealogy of teaching Maltese literature, and also as an archaeology of sources
that can be considered at the very heart of Maltese as a subject. In other words, each
entry corresponds to a copy of the pertinent documents, usually spread over one or
two pages.
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Table 9.6: A short comment on a selection of documents related to the teaching of
Maltese literature
1795
1930
1937
1948
1970
1984
1984
c
1995
1995
1999
2001
Mikiel Anton Vassalli, a Maltese patriot and scholar, writes a letter to Grand Master de
Rohan to open a school to teach Maltese. Vassalli was the first to recognise the importance
of the mother tongue in the education of all Maltese.
A selection from an editorial written by Dun Karm Psaila (Malta’s national poet), ‘Ilpoeżija Maltija l-aħjar minn kull waħda oħra’ [In schools, Maltese poetry is the best when
compared to the rest] where among other issues, he explained: a) what is a poem, b) the
function of poetry in the education of children, and c) how a poem should be read and
analysed in schools.
Two pages from Ward ta’ Qari Malti [Flowers from a Maltese Reading Garden] the
textbook used in secondary schools for over 30 years compiled by Pietru Pawl Saydon
(Malta’s most eminent Biblical scholar) and Ġużè Aquilina (a linguist and lexicographer).
In this textbook the idea of poetic-thought (in Maltese ‘ħsieb’) was first introduced in
teacher’s discourse; on the other hand, footnotes explained archaic words used in prose.
Two pages from the anthology Il-Muża Maltija [The Maltese Muse] edited by Ġużè
Aquilina, and reissued in various editions up until the 1980s. In this anthology the idea of
biographical criticism was first introduced, the selection of poems being preceded by a biobibliographical note.
The editorial in Malta’s foremost modern literary journal focused on ‘Maltese literature in
schools.’ The editor’s comment (most probably Victor Fenech, himself a teacher and
rebel-poet) focused on the pressing need to have: a) updated textbooks to teach literature
especially in the light of Malta’s gaining independence six years earlier; b) the new
generation of writers to find a place in the textbooks, and c) updated methods of teaching
Maltese literature.
An advert published on the back cover of the magazine Mis-Sillabu [From the Syllabus] for
note books (a sort of Maltese version of Cliff Notes) on the then selected texts for Ordinary
and Advanced Maltese Matriculation Certificate.
The publisher’s name Publishers Enterprises Group PEG at the time was synonymous with
such books that immediately sold thousands of copies. These books were easily
identifiable from the small size (2”x5”), and one colour cover with white typescript.
Two selections from the literature section of the Maltese syllabus. The aims of teaching
literature were that after reading only the fine authors, students should be able to ‘grasp the
ethics and cultural values of Maltese literature.’
Then, what follows is a list of poems and poets; from a selection of thirteen poems for the
first year, only one is written by a female.
Interesting enough, the suggested textbooks to teach prose Trevor Żahra’s Meta Jaqa’ ċĊpar [When Mist Falls] and Ġorġ Borg’s Stejjer minn Tarf fir-Raħal [Stories from the Far
End of the Village] are still taught in state secondary schools today.
The anonymous state school syllabus writer [most probably the newly appointed
Educational Officer for Maltese at secondary level Tarcisio Żarb] felt the need to explain
and spell out for teachers how a poem should be structurally analysed: summary, style,
symbolism, meter, semantic field, sounds, rhetoric, comparison with other poems, general
comments and finally, questions and knowledge about what is a poem.
The same is one with prose, suggesting a different way of reading prose, summary, style
and diction, characters, background, plot, and dialogue.
A page from Il-Miġra [The Waterfall] edited by Tarcisio Żarb used exclusively in Church
and Private schools. However, state schools use Nadriet [Gazing] four booklets very
similar in content and presentation to the previously mentioned textbook.
The institution of the now defunct Għaqda tal-Għalliema tal-Malti [Maltese Teachers
Association] aimed at promoting an update in the syllabi, keep abreast with current
research and publish pedagogical material for teachers and pupils.
The publication of attainment targets for reading non-fiction and reading literature (Portelli,
2001a and 2001b) based on a reader-response notion of conceptualising the reading act.
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Within this context, I find Basil Bernstein’s (2000) insights, amongst many others,
on knowledge construction and transformation into education accepted knowledge
structures, ‘singulars’ or commonly known as subjects through a special kind of
pedagogical communication language device, illuminating.
Subjects are
“knowledge structures whose creators have appropriated a space to give themselves
a unique name, a specialised discrete discourse with its own intellectual field of
texts, practices, rules of entry, examinations, licenses to practice, distribution of
rewards and punishments” (Bernstein, 2000: 52).
School subjects create
“justificatory discourses or ‘regimes of truth’ for the organization of school
knowledge” (Goodson and Marsh, 1996: 3).
Reflective practitioners, as I envision my student-teachers to become, require
inspiration from a theory or vertical knowledge that explains how knowledge is
selected from other fields of knowledge production and then rearranged and
recontextualised to become a specific form of educational knowledge. Bernstein’s
(2000: 65) definition of curriculum change as “emerging out of a struggle between
groups to make their bias (and focus) state policy and practice” is revealing and
pertinent to the history of teaching Maltese literature. For example the way the
Maltese literature syllabus was revised in circa 1995 to include a detailed
structuralist approach to analysing a text clearly demonstrates an attempt to direct
instruction in a particular text-bound way, even if the official discourse at that time
and even later was all in favour of a child-centred pedagogy. Furthermore, “the bias
and focus of this official discourse are expected to construct in teachers and students
a particular moral disposition, motivation and aspiration, embedded in particular
performances and practices” (Bernstein, 2000: 65). Subjects, by their very nature
“set parameters for practice” (Goodson and Marsh, 1996: 3). The question of
transmission of skills and transmission of values as being two discourses is
problematised by Bernstein (2000: 32) and he comes out with the strong proposition
that unlike what teachers are made to believe, they are actually one discourse. What
skills are most valued in the teaching of Maltese literature is indicative of the values
teachers and pupils assign to the text and the kind of reading that is used. “Official
knowledge,” a term used by Bernstein but which is also dear and conceptualised in
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its many ramifications by Michael Apple (1993), constructs and construes what is
pedagogically acceptable behaviour and output, and more importantly, how it is
measured or defines how it is attained when set against critical standards or criteria
of attainment.
By politicising the pedagogical discourse around subject formations and curricula,
the veil of neutrality is immediately lifted from the struggle, resistance and
challenge. The definition of a subject is not easy, and might remain open-ended
since it is always in a state of flux. Therefore, for a conscious student-teacher, a
starting point might be to recognise the debate, the positions, the interests of
particular groups, and reflect on his/her ideological provenance.
A vantage starting point for better understanding one’s subject is by trying to define
it. In doing so, I knew I was opening Pandora’s box, for the idea of a ‘subject’ “is
an elusive and multifaceted phenomenon because it is defined, redefined and
negotiated at a number of levels and in a number of arenas” (Goodson and Marsh,
1996: 1-2).
This is even more so where literature is concerned.
Even Terry
Eagleton’s (1983: 14) goliardic attempt to define literature ends up in the ironic
statement: “literature does not exist in the sense that insects do,” and with the
relative concluding argument: “the value-judgements by which it is constituted are
historically variable.” Furthermore, Elaine Showalter (2003) seems to be undecided
on the whole matter. At one point she is adamant: there is no need to define
literature, for, quoting Barthes, ‘what gets taught’ in literature classrooms is
literature, thus avoiding all together getting into the messy and many a times
linguistically contrived arguments of what is and is not literature (Showalter, 2003:
21). But then, in her preface to the same book, she seems more convinced than
not… “we can improve our students’ lives and morale by sharing ideas about how to
teach better, and improve our own lives and morale by thinking about why we want
to teach literature in the first place” (Showalter, 2003: ix).
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9.4.1
Student-teachers defining literature
To open a discussion on the embeddedness of the student-teachers’ beliefs of what
is literature, I proposed to first let them write their own definitions, and later discuss
their definitions according to the emphasis they laid on one of Abrahm’s (1989) four
pointed definition of critical discourse. Table 9.7 gathers some of the unanimous
definitions given by my student-teacher’s before a discussion on the boundaries and
contours of the ‘subject’ literature.
Table 9.7: Literature is…
 The life of the author viewed from an artistic lens.
 The result of a moment of celebration or exaltation or the opposite, a moment of great despair and
grief.
 The personal emotions and experiences of an author transformed into words in a way that is not
normally expected to be expressed in, for example a lot of figures of speech and poetic licence.
 Writing that transmits emotions.
 A collection of words that express emotions, experiences or simply a didactic message.
 An art that uses words as building blocks.
 Original writing because every author tackles themes revolving around human life from his/her
perspective, which is different from others’.
 Different genres like prose and poetry, and very much different from everyday writing like an
article in a magazine or newspaper.
 A different style to that of the daily newspapers.
 A text charged with style and written in a language different from everyday speech.
 A type of artistic writing that tries to impress the reader and transports him/her in an imaginary
world.
 A text that embodies a kind of emotion or experiences that the author passed through, infused with
a lot of imagination, fantasy, metaphors and style.
At a first glance, student-teachers emphasise most the idea of style, a heightened use
of everyday language, and then, as a second preference consider the relation of the
text with the author’s life as a source of ‘genuine’ literature. This emphasis on
Russian Formalists’ and New Critics’ discourse mirrors their education. No wonder
the dictionary of literary terminology written by Oliver Friggieri (1996: 377), who is
also their main lecturer of literature’s content with the Faculty of Arts, defines
literature as “l-arti tal-kelma; is-sengħa li biha toħloq biċċa xogħol artistika
magħmula mill-kliem imħaddem skond teknika tal-lingwa; il-prodott tekniku tattħaddim tal-kelma” [the art of word; the skill by which an artistic work is made from
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words used according to a technique of language; the technical product of word
use].
I find that there is a “crucial link” (Goodson and Marsh, 1996: 4) between subject
knowledge and subject pedagogy, and assessment practices within a particular
subject. Elaborating on how literature should be taught, Showalter (2003: 27-38)
proposes three orientations:
 subject-centred approach where there is great emphasis on the transmission of
subject content and related information, very often tending to suggest that there is
only one ‘correct’ answer;
 teacher-centred theories focusing on what a teacher must do or be to serve as a
model for future practice; and thirdly,
 student-centred approaches preferring a more dialectic approach to teaching by
actively involving students and reflecting on the classroom processes to take full
advantage of the learning experience.
Initially, student-teachers come from a subject-centred approach. However, as they
move along the study-unit on teaching literature, they are invited to embrace a more
student-centred orientation. This move kicks-off with an analysis of current beliefs,
many of which are formed and informed by practices of subject taught at university.
A transitory phase for some student-teachers can be ‘eclectic theory’ – “probably the
most widespread theory of teaching literature is having no theory at all, and trying to
make use of whatever will do the job” (Showalter, 2003: 37-38) – but for others, this
medial stage, in a way similar to a bricoleur’s experience (vide Chapter 7; Kincheloe
and Berry, 2004), can become the end of their journey. I do not worry too much if
some, or even all student-teachers, end up practicing an eclectic approach, for when
describing their classroom their theory will end up being student-centred just the
same (Showalter, 2003: 38). For I fully concur with Marshall Gregory (2001: 75),
that we cannot “assume that one method or another will solve all problems. [….]
…no one teaching method can meet all the demands of learning. [….] Concern for
method should always be a concern for methods.”
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The received ideas on subject knowledge need to be scrutinised as well to better
understand ideas that are regarded or held as the ‘stable monolithic truths’
uncritically transmitted within the Faculty of Arts (University of Malta), seemingly
glossing over the seam or avoiding altogether the cracks and crevices of this
privileged position. The University’s conception of Maltese as being just a happy
marriage of linguistics and literature, that percolates down to secondary and primary
schools’ ideas of Maltese, is bluntly off the mark. In this context, I make mine Nick
Peim’s (1993: 7) critique of English in England… Maltese “has saddled itself with
ideas and practices that are very strictly limited and limiting.” And the bastions of
the status quo, are not so much the classroom walls with the teachers as pawns, but
rather the offices of 16+ examination boards that carry on perpetuating certain kind
of practices, especially restrictive and outdated conceptions of text and textual
reading practices, by preferring an outdated marking scheme and propagating a
syllabus that does not really do justice to modern exigencies for Maltese. Maltese,
albeit a small subject with a recent history, has its share of interesting debates and
update of its functions and terrain are simmering even if kept at bay – what Goods
and Marsh (1996: 13) call ‘internalization’ – by a strong centralised system of ghost
syllabus writers and secretive curriculum revisers within the Education Division.
Since I asked student-teachers to write a short paragraph to define literature, what is
interesting for me was that although their first sentence nearly always focused on the
internal characteristics of the text (style, language, figures of speech, deviation etc.)
their second and third sentences are more revealing, in the sense that then they
focused on the effects of the literature on the reader, as shown in Table 9.8. The
canonical, textbook, dictionary definition is given first, but probably due to their
new awareness of the readers’ contribution, the effects of literature are included.
Thus, I might conclude that they are focusing on the reader also, even if as a
consequence of the first part of the definition, and most probably due to my
insistence on interpretation as a governing act on all texts, including life.
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Table 9.8: The effects of literature...
 Literature is a kind of writing that invites the reader not to remain passive, to enter in the world of
self-reflection.
 The same text can be interpreted in different ways, depending on the reader’s personal
experiences.
 Literature might be interpreted in different ways.
 Since life’s experiences are different from one individual to the other, therefore, the texts are going
to be different from one author to the next; depending on how one expresses him/herself.
 Literature is subject to different readers’ interpretations.
 I feel everyone can write literature since everyone his/her particular dose of life’s experiences.
Their emphasis on the effects of literature on the reader is indicative of their greater
awareness with the reader’s role in the reading act. However, can this step forward
be indicative of a bigger move forward in their becoming student-centred teachers of
literature? One other piece of information related to what subject identity has to do
with their idea of canon.
9.4.2
Defending literature, or knowing better why teaching literature is
important
From the time Plato shunned poets from his Republic, literature has found all sorts
of critics. School staffroom discussions are deemed to one day fall on why teach
Maltese literature. Student-teachers, I feel, need to be trained on how to defend
from such attacks. Reflective Task 16 was appropriately titled The (ir)relevance of
literature, where they had to answer Morgan’s attack to literature, or more precisely,
charges to fiction, in Aiden Chambers’ (1978/1995: 9-10) Breaktime.
His
accusations, which can be considered as a synthesis of similar arguments, are the
following: Literature as a form of narration is out of fashion; Plato’s accusation:
Literature is by definition, a lie; Literature makes “life appear neat and tidy”;
Literature is a make-belief game and not life; and rather acerbically, Literature is
“crap” (Chambers, 1978/1995: 9-10). The writing of those that defend literature is
known as apologetic literature, and theirs was a response letter of kind. I figured it
was befitting to end the study-unit (with the first group) with another letter, bringing
full circle the genres of the different Reflective Tasks and Portfolio Artefacts. Table
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9.9 groups under seven headings the main counter-arguments brought forward by
student-teachers and a selection of their own words.
Table 9.9: Counter arguments to the charge on literature
Counter arguments
Literature is an
inspiration to other
art forms
The dubious quality
of certain literature
The visceral
pleasure of reading
Personal meaning
and growth
What’s wrong with
pure fantasy?
Cultural identity
Literature and life
A selection of student-teachers’ own words
“Literature is read by millions across the globe, and attracts the attention of
film directors (even in Malta) who transform it into films.” Luigi
“Morgan, do you know from where film directors get their ideas? Literature!
A book requires the readers’ contribution to imagine the information in words
and to fill in the gaps, while a director creates a visual representation that
helps the viewer imagine more easily.” Ilona
“Certainly there are works that are better than others, granted, but the reader
has a supreme right to choose what to read.” Luigi
“I am convinced that pupils can discern the difference between a good quality
piece of writing and mediocre one.” Marika
“In the reading process, the reader has an important role to play, even if it is
just an imaginary world he is entering in; this gives him pleasure that has no
competition. Non-literary writing does not have the same effect on the
reader.” Luigi
“Literature gives me great pleasure like no other art form, not even television
nor cinema… nothing is like it! I look forward to reading it and discovering
new experiences and feeling new sensations I never dreamed I could feel.”
Cleo
“As from when still very young, literature played an important role in my
life…” Cleo
“One cannot throw away part of him/herself; literature presents your past,
your present and possibly, your future.” Ilona
“Literature presents situations, characters, perceptions, events and issues that
civilise readers, and encourage them to be active citizens and keen observers
of reality.” Marika
“Life would be unbearable had there not been literature that is the gateway to
fantasy.” Cleo
“Literature forms an essential part of the individual’s cultural identity and
helps in the psychological and academic development of the person.” Marika
“Literature reflects a modus vivendi of a whole community, and therefore it is
not a lie [….] it can serve as a window on other cultures too. That is why it is
imperative that pupils read texts from other cultures apart from their own.”
Belinda
“I suggest you read some more contemporary literature to start to understand
that literature is reflecting a far from perfect life. Literature forms part of
life.” Cleo
“Life itself is not logical or develops according to plans… such is literature.
If literature imitates life, it should have no beginning or end, an impossible
feat.” Ilona
“Literature presents a number of perspectives, some ingenious or unthinkable
by many, and through empathy manages to view life from a different
perspective.” Ilona
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I selected one to three examples of the student-teachers’ own words to illustrate
their way of thinking. Student-teachers presented a variety of counter-arguments,
and I cannot say that one was more important than the rest. They explored different
arguments, and presented a number of pertinent examples from Maltese literature
and some even drew on their knowledge of foreign literature. Few of them included
a quotation by famous authors towards the end of the letter, as if saying, “if you
don’t believe me, read what this famous author had to say.” What transpired
reading the letters to Morgan, was a complete disregard of his position, and a
barrage of experiences to prove him wrong.
9.4.3
Reading interests as a mirror of canon formation among prospective
teachers
One salient feature of Maltese literature, like any other literature is the idea of
canon. Originally it meant “the choice of books in our teaching institutions,” that is
the haunting, more pressing, question of “What shall the individual who still desires
to read attempt to read, this late in history?” (Bloom, 1993: 15) Since there is little
time to read all that is published, even within a small literature like Maltese, one is
faced with a choice. This decision is further complicated when one bears in mind
that the time to read within language subjects in schools is always diminishing given
the broadening of the curriculum; the debate on what could be considered as
essential minimum requirement of literary competence is always strong even if at
times behind closed quarters within cold corridors of language examination boards
and syllabus planners; and finally, the hard guessing game of what could be relevant
for future generations in view of adult functional needs within a literate open
society.
I don’t agree with Harold Bloom (1993: 17) when he writes: “We need to teach
more selectively, searching for the few who have the capacity to become highly
individual readers and writers.” Such an undemocratic statement, goes against the
grain of all I believe in and against teachers of literature’s “common cause” and that
when performed well, can become the true hallmark of their “professional work”
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(Showalter, 2003: 24). While I conceded that Bloom’s (1993: 17) major interest is
higher education, however I strongly disagree with the assertion that “aesthetic
value can be recognized or experienced, but it cannot be conveyed to those who are
incapable of grasping its sensations and perceptions” – for I believe actually this is
every literature teacher’s mission. At least at secondary level, each teacher of
literature should help pupils to make contact with the aesthetic value of texts that, in
turn, with his/her guidance become meaningful.
Drawing my arguments and conclusions on two different reflective tasks, there
seems to be lack of consensus on one position. Some student-teachers have a clear
idea about the matter; they concede that the definition of literature in general or at
university is completely different from what might be considered suitable as
literature to be read and taught at secondary school.
“I believe that the literature good for a classroom should be different
from that read by everyone (adults). I reckon that good literature for
the classroom is more effective when it matches the pupil’s
experiences or those that are to be experienced in the near future.”
(Cleo, Reflective Task 17: Towards a personal definition of literature)
A completely different view is expressed by another student-teacher:
“I think there is no difference between the definition of literature in
general and that for literature used in a secondary school, with one
proviso: at secondary level the chosen literary themes need to fit or
match pupils’ age and interests. If one is hard-headed enough to
pursue teaching off-putting themes, then pupils will lose all interest. I
don’t think there is anything wrong having negative aspects, so long as
they are in balance with positive ones.”
(Luigi, Reflective Task 17: Towards a personal definition of literature)
When it comes to selecting authors suitable for secondary school, they end
mentioning current authors and texts, with some minor changes. This insight can be
divided into two: what they consider as canonical authors or “imaginary canon,” and
secondly, what they consider as suitable for “pedagogical canons,” what actually
gets taught in classrooms or is considered a suitable form of reading within
classroom or school boundaries (Gallagher, 2001). “The wider pedagogical canon is
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made up of the most frequently taught texts, a list that is empirically verifiable”
(Gallagher, 2001: 54). The three factors that influence a text being considered part
of pedagogical canon are: accidental encounters; pragmatic needs and ethical
commitments. “Better understanding the complex dynamics of pedagogical canons
will provide new ways of thinking about the construction of our own classroom
canons that move beyond simplistic appeals either to tradition or to innovation”
(Gallagher, 2001: 54). Still, the process of canon formation while it “emerges by
way of gradual and unofficial consensus,” remains “very loose-boundaried (sic), and
subject to changes in its inclusions” and without any doubt, a “complex and
disputed” formative process (Abrams, 1993: 20).
Interestingly enough, the student-teachers’ choice of literature suitable for secondary
school pupils overrides aesthetic considerations. Some of the criteria mentioned by
student-teachers as suitable literature for secondary students include: pupils’
interests; suitability of themes according to age; a healthy balance between positive
and negative themes; a variety of themes that catch and steer pupils’ imagination;
subjects and mode of expression that are not too abstract; pupils’ level of maturity;
and pupils’ reading interests. Student-teachers pressed with an immediate choice
opt for what they take to be in agreement with their pupils’ desires and interests.
Student-teachers had to apply what they learnt about canon, pedagogical canon, text
selection and syllabus design, in a practical group work activity. To successfully
complete this task, they had to: come up with a creative name for their literature
syllabus; relate it to attainment targets for literary experience; identify aims for their
topic; select a number of texts, one of which had to be a book they would
recommend their pupils to buy; create teaching resources and develop a scheme of
work spread over a few weeks to guide the implementation of the syllabus. From
this small scale project, I was not just testing their content knowledge, but also how
they were putting into practice their awareness of issues concerned with text
selection, and finally come up with a feasible justification or defence for their
choice. Table 9.10 takes a snap-shot of the topics chosen by the different groups and
their relation to the attainment target’s focus for that particular level.
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Table 9.10: The distribution of syllabi according to academic year and relation to the
focus of the attainment targets
Relation to the focus of
the attainment targets
Level I: Themes
Level II: Author study
Level III: Genre
Title
2003-2004
Family life during the day and
relationships with the extended
family
Trevor Żahra: A children’s author
From oral to written tradition:
Maltese legends
Title
2004-2005
Diversity: A rainbow without its
colour blue! We all need each
other to be who we are
Maria Grech Ganado: A
contemporary female rebel-poet
A look at the historical novel in
Maltese
The choice of topics for their literature syllabus already demonstrates that they did
not venture far from what they learnt either at school or at university. The ‘Family’
theme is not at all original, and even in their description of treatment of the theme,
they stuck with relationships within the traditional nuclear family and extended
family.
While like all themes ‘Family’ could have been tackled more
adventurously, like touching upon new forms of families, and family representations
from different cultures, I found the second theme to be a step in the right direction,
with diversity being a generative theme, which, however, they did not exploit to the
full. Trevor Żahra is the most famous Maltese children’s author, has been writing
for decades and certainly is the most read author during childhood and adolescence:
in other words, a safe bet. Out of so many authors they resorted to the known and
widely read. A little more adventurous were those that chose poet Maria Grech
Ganado, who, while she is anthologised by major editors, is less known. Historical
novel and legends are two genres that feature in past or current syllabi. What I find
most illuminating though is their choice of books to be bought by pupils, as listed in
Table 9.11 with their own reasons in the third column.
Table 9.11: The topics with the suggested book and reasons for that choice
Topic
Family life and
relationships with
extended family
Suggested books
Żveljarin [Alarm Clock]
written by Trevor Żahra
Diversity: A
rainbow without
its colour blue
Tużżana [A Dozen] edited
by Ġorg Mallia and Trevor
Żahra
Reasons given by student-teachers
A collection of humorous poems idea with Form
1 pupils. A variety of genres from the classical
to the modern free form free verse style. Has a
complimentary work-book.
Reasonably priced; can be bought by all. A
collection of twelve short stories from as many
Maltese children’s authors, and illustrated in
black and white by twelve contemporary
children’s book illustrators.
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Trevor Żahra: A
children’s author
Maria Grech
Ganado: A
contemporary
female rebel
From oral to
written tradition:
Maltese legends
A look at the
historical novel in
Maltese
Tużżana [A Dozen] edited
by Ġorg Mallia and Trevor
Żahra
Iżda Mhux Biss [But Not
Only] written by Maria
Grech Ganado
L-Għarusa tal-Mosta [A
Bride from Mosta],
rewritten by Paul Mizzi
Il-Madonna tal-Isperanza
[Holy Mary of Hope]
rewritten by Paul Mizzi
L-Eremita ta’ Wied ilGħasel [The Hermit from
Honey’s Valley] rewritten
by Paul Mizzi
It-Tfajla tal-Kastell
Żammitellu [The Girl of
Żammitellu Castle]
rewritten by Paul Mizzi
San Ġwann [Saint John]
written by Ġużè Galea
A short story anthology of a dozen contemporary
children’s authors and as many illustrators, one
of which is Trevor Żahra’s.
A powerful poetry book, documenting emotions
everyone feels from time to time. Reflects also
the idea of a love that ends in separation. The
few black line illustrations transmit an idea of
solitude and vulnerability that compliment well
the whole emotional experience of the book.
Four booklets with a retelling in simple enough
Maltese of four traditional Maltese legends.
Compared to other books, these booklets have a
near large-print like setting, with etching like
illustrations on each spread. The few new words
used in each legend are explained at the back of
the book. They are small books, therefore light
to carry, and are saddle stitched.
Ideal for secondary school students. It is not so
long a novel and therefore the likelihood is that
pupils will read the whole book. The book is
divided into a number of short chapters – some
of which no longer than a page – making it an
easy read. The theme of the book is the Knights
of Malta, and the fight between good and evil.
Perplexing is the fact that student-teachers, while having liberty, resorted to books
well within the canon or pedagogical canon. The books mentioned in Table 9.11
were never specifically written to be school textbooks; they ‘somehow’ found their
place in the pedagogical canon, because ‘someone’ saw a potential in them to teach
literature at secondary school. This follows Peim’s (1993: 74-75) conclusion on
some texts in English curriculum in England, that there has been no debate on what
texts are taught at secondary school; they sort of ‘found their place’ without proper
consultation and worst of all, no one has ever tried to justify their presence on
reading lists or syllabi.
While virtually unknown to non-Maltese readers, these books were and are used in
non-State secondary schools, with the exception of San Ġwann which used to be a
textbook in State secondary schools when I was a student, nearly over twenty years
ago and Iżda Mhux Biss which as far as I know never made it on the list of any
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syllabus. The other books – Tużżana, Żveljarin and the four legends – have all
featured as textbooks, and thus form part of the Maltese pedagogical canon.
Furthermore, Tużżana and Żveljarin were two books I used with my studentteachers in a prior study-unit on Maltese Children’s Literature. Therefore, even if
nearly all student-teachers attended a state secondary school, they got to know about
these two books. In their choice, the majority of student-teachers were replicating
what others at one time or another had decided, without trying to experiment. This
lack of faith in one’s judgement greatly impedes innovation in the pedagogical
canon in Malta.
As a teacher trainer I am preoccupied with this state of affairs. When studentteachers and teachers are leaving this important pedagogical decision to others, they
are refusing to exert their pedagogical authority in a crucial aspect of literature
teaching. Consequently, the natural healthy process of teachers experimenting with
different books with different audiences, and then sharing their valuable experience
with others is short circuited, and instead others make all the choices.
9.5
Images of teachers of literature
The fifth and final theme focuses on the images and characteristics of teachers of
literature. Student-teachers, like many other people, have a special place for that
teacher that made a significant difference in their life. Indeed, one major source of
impact on student-teachers’ beliefs of a ‘good’ literature teacher is their image of
that special teacher that left an indelible mark on them as a pupil. As Cecilia
contends: “In my decision to become a teacher I believe that there were teachers that
influenced my decision” (Reflective Task 11: The influence of a literature teacher).
This image is a powerful source of meaning making that surface more as they
progress in their initial teacher training course. In fact, one model of teaching
literature puts great emphasis on the teacher’s charisma, competence (both content
and pedagogical), talent, inventiveness and verve, what Showalter (2003: 32-35)
calls “teacher-centred theories.” The first dimension to teacher-centred theories is
the teacher as performer, “a one-man or one-woman show” (Showalter, 2003: 32).
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A second facet to teacher-centred theories is teaching as a spiritual journey, where
self-knowledge, trust in students, character integrity, tact in dealing with emotions,
and acceptance of students’ values, are the most powerful tools in a teacher’s hands.
This is one definition of such a teacher with the charismatic effects that s/he brings
along to the classroom:
If the teacher exhibits an ethos of passion, commitment, deep interest,
involvement, honesty, curiosity, excitement, and so on, then what
students are moved to imitate is not the skill or the idea directly, but
the passion, commitment, excitement, and interest that clearly vivifies
the life of the teacher.
(Gregory, 2001: 77)
One version I touched upon of the spiritual dimension to teaching is Stephen
Brookfield’s (1990) “skilful teacher.” This idealistic perspective of a teacher is
perpetuated by films on teachers, like Mona Lisa Smile (Newell, 2003) and Dead
Poets Society (Weir, 1989). Given the importance I ascribe to images of ‘The
Literature Teacher,’ student-teachers were assigned a number of Reflective Tasks
that tease out any experiences and images they might have of teachers of literature.
9.5.1
Student-teachers describing a teacher of literature
Bearing in mind Showalter’s (2003) distinction between a performer and a
charismatic person, I can safely say that what attracts most if not all student-teachers
towards a particular teacher is not so much his/her knowledge of the subject, as
much as those other complementary skills and values that make a person unique and
interesting to remember.
“The teacher that left her mark in my mind is without any doubt my
third year secondary school Maltese teacher. She was a person that
truly cared and loved her pupils. Maltese was always one of my
favourite subjects, but this teacher increased the love I had and still
have towards this subject. I always wanted to become like her. She
was still young compared to my other teachers, and she knew her
subject really well. During her lessons time used to fly, and we never
got bored. It was with her aid that we learned to appreciate better
literature, especially because she did not make us learn by heart poems
we did in class. She used to understand us students. We used to talk
to her about many issues, and when we used to have a problem, we
used to confide in her, and she used to try to help us out. She used to
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pass our recommendations to the school administration. She used to
identify problems we used to have about the subject and explain them
to us in a simple way. She used to organise very effective and
interesting lessons, and we used to participate wholeheartedly. She
used to accept all sorts of opinions, and never mocked us in front of
the classroom. When she used to rebuke someone, she always did so
in a gentile way. And when she praised someone, she did so
judiciously, like when she showed to everyone my project on the book
we were reading, it was one of those days when I felt important; she
went so far as to ask me my permission to photocopy the project so she
could use it as an exemplar with other students once I finish the
scholastic year. She knew how to keep us active and interested in the
lesson. We used to design charts with her on a theme we were
covering and went so far as to allow us to work in groups. She was a
jolly person and used to tell jokes from time to time. If I had to use an
adjective to describe her, I would say she was highly organised,
generous, enthusiastic, having a positive outlook, motivated and
confident in the classroom. Without actually being aware at that time,
with her we were learning more than we used to before.”
(James, Reflective Task 11: The influence of a literature teacher)
James’s description is typical of other descriptions by student-teachers of their
favourite literature teacher. Her gentle and approachable character, the age factor,
competence in her subject, and an array of other positive characteristics, contributed
to a long lasting image. Her pedagogy was student-centred. The result: learning
becomes a pleasurable experience.
Cecilia chose to reflect on a teacher that left a negative impact on her.
“He used to teach me English during my third year at secondary
school. I used to fear this teacher from the moment he set foot in
class. The fact that I used to fear this teacher contributed to my low
mark in his subject. The literature lesson never was delivered in an
interesting way. He was the sole reader of the poems. Then he used to
explicate them for us, verse by verse. He did not care about our
opinions. I forgot what play we were doing, but I still remember
vividly, what happened as if it is happening to me today. He used to
make sure that we read the play before coming to class, and insisted
that we look-up in a dictionary each difficult word in the text and write
it down in the margin next to it. I always used to do so rather
diligently, but on that day I was not at all fortunate. He asked me to
explain the word ‘hazard.’ I did not know the meaning of that word,
and I was given a copy. I had to copy for four times a section from the
play, and since he insisted that he wanted the copy on that day, I had to
write a big chunk of it during the long break. I learnt the hard way the
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meaning of ‘hazard.’ [….] Therefore, as a teacher I wish to work hard
so that another incident like the one I suffered never repeats itself
again. I can consider the fact that I don’t want to become like this
teacher and most probably other teachers teaching me literature at
secondary school, as my first personal commandment of teaching
literature.”
(Cecilia, Reflective Task 11: The influence of a literature teacher)
9.5.2
The teacher of literature I want to become
Another source of images of teachers of literature is through projection, what one
wants to become. Reading through all the student-teachers’ reflections on the kind
of teachers they want to become, a number of characteristics consistently seem to
crop up, and are presented in Table 9.12.
Table 9.12: Characteristics of a teacher of literature that student-teachers want to
emulate and embrace as their own
 Distinguish between two types of reading lessons: non-fiction and fiction; a distinction that
corresponds to Rosenblatt’s efferent and aesthetic reading.
 Listen to pupils’ opinions and responses.
 Have active discussions that pupils can truly participate in.
 Put pupils’ interests first before the teacher’s.
 Develop a positive friendly attitude with my pupils.
 Make literature lesson an enjoyable experience relevant to the pupils’ needs.
 Foster autonomous learning and reading.
 Using activities to bridge the text with the pupils’ experiences.
 Always remain up to date with the latest Maltese literature publications, especially books for
adolescent readers.
 Let the imagination run wild when it comes to teaching methods to use in class, let the text inspire
you.
 Prepare a number of open-ended questions for discussion.
 Avoid unnecessary use of literary terminology, especially with the lower forms.
 Use a variety of resources to complement the lesson, according to the pupils’ age, interests and
ability.
 Encourage reading at home of selected texts.
 Modulate one’s voice to impersonate different characters within a text.
 Aim at a change in examination culture, moving towards an assessment for learning
conceptualisation with greater importance assigned to the interaction between teaching and
learning.
 Pass the love of literature in all I do.
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Reading the list in Table 9.12 clearly shows that student-teachers, in the middle of
their academic year, are already describing a constructivist classroom, and moving
away from aspects related to the traditional way of teaching literature, mainly due to
a personal dissatisfaction with their own learning experience at secondary school.
Some of the characteristics they identified to be avoided are: repeating the same
lesson’s sequence day in day out; believing that there is only one interpretation to a
text; expecting their pupils to regurgitate what was presented during the lesson in
notes,
closed-exercises
and
examination
questions;
assigning
close-ended
comprehension-style questions and exercises; reading all of a text in class in a
routine manner; emphasising the biography of an author; and introducing them to
literary terminology as early as possible, and making them learn lists and definitions
by heart.
9.5.3
Why become teachers of literature
The reasons why one chooses one profession over another can be very different
from one person to another. It has been contended (vide Ellis 2003; Goodwyn,
2002) that the main reason for selecting a profession is for the love of the subject, in
this case: literature. This pattern, according to Goodwyn (2002: 66), has remained
“reasonably consistent” for over 13 years, in England, after interviewing 700
candidates. However, my small cohort provided a number of other reasons, apart
from the stated love for literature or reading.
9.5.3.1 Love for children
If love for the subject features quite frequently, there seems to be a strong contender
to this first post, the love for children. “I always liked social contact, the human
touch to things and relationships – that’s the reason why I detest work with a desk
and computer in front of you for a whole day. And above all: children are the love
of my life” (Samantha, Reflective Task 10: Why did you want to become a teacher?).
Samantha concludes, “Since I was brought up to believe that a book is my best
friend, I always had the desire to pass on to my students that same love, and who
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knows, possibly convey that same love to my own children” (Reflective Task 10:
Why did you want to become a teacher?).
9.5.3.2 A special teacher
That special teacher usually made student-teachers fall for the teaching profession.
Anecdotes of special teachers are countless.
Films such as Dangerous Minds
(Smith, 1995 – for a critical reading of the teacher represented in this film vide
Peim, 2005b), Mona Lisa Smile (Newell, 2003), Dead Poets Society (Weir, 1989),
Freedom Writers (LaGravenese, 2007) promote an ideal of teacher that succeeds
within difficult contexts against many adversities, after creating a special rapport
with his/her initially suspicious students. Teaching becomes possible since pupils
start to accept their teacher’s quasi heroic image, coupled with his/her new methods
– be it writing, drawing or reading literature – that are more attuned to the popular
culture of their students’ background. Usually it was not just the subject, but the
way this teacher taught the subject and the special care she took in the particular
student.
“I had a young teacher that was the light of my eyes. She knew how to
teach, patient, assign group work, give us brownie points, give us
small presents, but above all she used to love us and take personal
interest in us as young pupils, as if we were her children. During
break time she would approach us to talk about our hobbies and I
would show her my dolls. I used to show her my drawings, the ones I
was shy to share with everyone else, and that is how our friendship
grew stronger. I used to admire her a lot, and at home I started
imitating her when playing with my dolls and soft-toys. I even went
so far as to reproduce similar handouts to use in my simulated teaching
sessions.”
(Suzanne, Reflective Task 10: Why did you want to become a teacher?)
Then, as time went by, Suzanne, started to realise that she “had a number of
qualities consonant to those of a teacher: responsibility, patience to explain new
things to others” (Suzanne, Reflective Task 10: Why did you want to become a
teacher?).
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9.5.3.3 Playing: Simulated teaching
One interesting case comes from Victoria, a student-teacher who never had anyone
in her family as a teacher or related to education. Her choice seems to have roots in
her early age when…
“Most of the time I used to play with dolls and my imagination ran
wild: I would be the teacher and the dolls my students. I always
wanted to be in a similar situation, that is teaching others within my
classroom. [….] I always used to say to myself that if I passed exams,
I would carry on studying Maltese. I had the desire that all I learnt and
had still to learn, be passed on to those that were not yet aware of
Maltese language’s beauty. I feel that I have to share with others what
I know.”
(Victoria, Reflective Task 12: Why did you want to become a teacher?)
The idea that the classroom is my territory is very strong in Victoria, especially her
emphasis on ‘my classroom.’ Those four walls give a sense of security not easily
attained within other professions. Perhaps, actors feel the same feeling when they
are on stage (vide Showalter, 2003: 32-34). Furthermore, success in examinations
seems to lead Victoria to her choice which actually was a childhood desire.
9.5.3.4 A deliberate decision
Since, like Victoria, Kim did not have any relative employed as a teacher, her
decision was a deliberate one, a sort of elimination process:
“I never had the guts to look at blood or stick the smell at hospitals, so
out the window went becoming a doctor or a nurse. I did not
particularly like a job related to money or as an architect either, since I
am not good at mathematical calculations. Lawyers and barristers
have higher status when compared to teachers, and the noble fight for
a client was attractive as was the fight for justice, but not enough to
make me change my mind. Those that used to ask me what I wanted
to become when I get older, my immediate enthusiastic reply would be
“A teacher!””
(Kim, Reflective Task 10: Why did you want to become a teacher?)
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9.5.3.5 Success in examinations
Success in examinations seems to be another motivator. Studying A-Level Maltese
on her own, Marika obtained a grade D. Then she attended private lessons, where
for the first time she realised that authors were making the same kind of question as
she was at this stage of her life.
“Rather than reading texts as being just creative mode of expression
and with a fatalistic aura around them, I started to look at them as an
experience I was passing through and therefore I could empathise with
them more, and understand their points of view even better. I was
grabbling with a paradox: No teacher I ever had was capable of
transmitting those same sentiments during his/her lesson! And then I
started asking: Why had I to discover on my own how literature talks
directly to the reader? Why do teachers, rather than bring us close to
the texts, take us many a times in the opposite direction?”
(Marika, Reflective Task 10: Why did you want to become a teacher?)
Sitting for the following examination session, she felt as if she was not answering an
examination question.
“It felt as if I was not doing an examination paper. It was a paper I
liked working and answering, because I knew what I was writing, and
every word came out from my heart. I found no problem remembering
those details related to poems, since I remembered those that I could
understand and relate to. Therefore it was easier to retain all this
information, for this time they were my own emotions too, not just the
poets’ feelings. This time round I got a ‘B.’ And the decision to
become a Maltese teacher was taken irrespective of the results I
obtained in other close at heart subjects. [….]
It is due and through Maltese literature that I initiated my personal
growth. I would like my pupils to enjoy what I love, to undergo a
personal change, like I did. As a teacher at secondary school I have
the responsibility to bridge the authors’ experiences with the children’s
experiences. If this ‘magic’ does not occur in my class, most probably
it will never happen. If someone asks, why Maltese literature and not
any other language, my simple answer would be, ‘Maltese, why
not?!’”
(Marika, Reflective Task 10: Why did you want to become a teacher?)
9.5.3.6 Emotional Intelligence
Self-awareness seems to be shared by other student-teachers. “The literature lesson
did not mean a boring and depressing experience, but a precious time when I could
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concretely reflect on different aspects of my own life, something I was not
encouraged or able to do in other subjects” (Samantha, Reflective Task 10: Why did
you want to become a teacher?). Samantha is convinced that literature is different
from other subjects, and adds another valuable dimension to one’s personality.
‘Emotional intelligence’ (Goleman, 1996) has become one significant justification
for literature lessons and it is clear that from classical times literature was
considered as a spiritual educative experience (Gribble, 1983).
9.6
The literature teacher… metaphorically speaking
One effective way of talking about a new kind of teacher is by drawing inferences
with other professions or trades. The multi-task role of a teacher of literature can be
described in relation to what other professions do. Metaphors may clarify studentteachers’ thoughts.
As Fairclough (2001: 99-100) contends: “…any aspect of
experience can be represented in terms of any number of metaphors, and it is the
relationship between alternative metaphors that is of particular interest.” Reflective
Task 14: Metaphorical images of a teacher of literature presents eight common
professions or trades to choose from: the matchmaker or go-between; the general;
the missionary; the model; the guardian; the psychologist; and the tourist guide. The
student-teachers had to pick one, or suggest a different profession or trade, and
explain the relationships and possibly some differences between the two. While this
task was done orally as part of concluding the in-depth interview with the first
group, I included it as a Reflective Task with the second cohort. What the chosen
metaphor reveals may have implications for the person involved, as well as the
wider debate, or discourse, from which it originated (MacLure 2003). “To study
metaphor is to be confronted with hidden aspects of one’s own mind and one’s own
culture” (Lakoff and Turner, 1989: 214).
The creation and understanding of
metaphors relies on “situates meanings” (Gee, 2005: 53-70), the shared meaning of
context as perceived by a specific sociocultural group of people. The following list
gathers the information obtained by the different professions when one considers the
two cohorts together:
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Table 9.13: A distribution of professions and trades vis-à-vis teaching
Profession/Trade
Matchmaker
1
2
3
4
5
5
6
Comments
6 all female student-teachers out of 19
Model
5 all female student-teachers out 19
Psychologist
3 all female student-teachers out of 19
Band conductor*
1 male
Mechanic*
1 male
Missionary
1 female
Shop vendor*
1 female
Tourist guide
1 female
Guardian
No response
General
No response
* A profession or trade not in the list but suggested by the student-teachers themselves.
Two student-teachers remarked that they did not choose the general since “he orders
and pretends that no one contradicts his word” (Kim, Reflective Task 10:
Metaphorical images of a teacher of literature) and “as the general trains his
soldiers to win the war, and picks out a strategy that should lead to success – the
battle ground is the classroom, in class the war is the exam, strategy is coaching for
examinations, and the soldiers are the regimented students in class … what a gross
misinterpretation of what should happen in class! (Mia, Reflective Task 10:
Metaphorical images of a teacher of literature). Interesting to read was the answer
given to the missionary, from a student-teacher who is, amongst other qualities, a
fervent Catholic, for “different metaphors have different ideological attachments”
(Fairclough, 2001: 100):
“Similar to the missionary, teaching is a vocation, a decision made out
of love for others, probably enacted in a hostile environment not of her
choice, courageously facing unforeseen problems… [….] She is not
afraid of challenges, is not forced to do anything except from the
internal commitment to share with others what she believes in, works
not out of thirst for monetary gains, everything else in her life becomes
second to her mission. I am thinking of a missionary in the style of
Mother Theresa, humble yet strong, with inner peace she could
conquer the most robust criticisms and prejudices.
(Julie, Reflective Task 10: Metaphorical images of a teacher of literature)
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Table 9.14 presents the three most chosen professions, with a brief explanation and
in the third column, the student-teachers’ own words substantiating their choice.
Table 9.14: The literature teacher is like…
Profession and possible key
The matchmaker
The matchmaker helps two
people who previously did not know
each other get to know each other.
Likewise, the teacher of literature acts as
intermediary between the students and
literary texts so that they may fall in love
together and live happily ever after.
1.
2.
The model
A model is a person who can be
considered as an ideal example of perfect
and unique beauty. In the same way, the
teacher of literature can be considered as
an ideal example to his/her students of a
true reader of literature, that if they work
hard enough can imitate and become one
like him/her.
3. The psychologist
The psychologist tries to
understand a person’s unconscious
through the text that is recounted by the
patient. Similarly, the teacher of
literature can (i) consider all authors as
patients that recount their unconscious in
their texts, (ii) uncover the deep feelings
of his/her students through the myriad of
interpretations that presented as a
reaction to the first text.
Student-teacher’s own words substantiating their choice
 “The idea of love immediately brings to mind the
profession of a matchmaker or go-between. I am going
to teach literature with the hope that students will love
it too. However, I am aware that the contact should be
direct, the third person has done his/her job once the to
be spouses meet. Therefore, maybe I see my role a little
bit wider than the matchmaker.” Anne
 “A matchmaker does not give up easily, so must a
teacher of literature. Students might not particularly
like a text, but with the intervention of the matchmakerteacher, students might appreciate the positive sides of
the text, it might not have been a love at first readingsight, but they may feel attracted.” Ella
 “The teacher as model helps students love her beauty
and they work hard to imitate her so as to become as
beautiful as her.” Priscilla
 “The choice was not at all difficult for me: a model.
Models above all are the most beautiful persons, with a
perfect body, to which instinctively you are attracted.
However, I picked a model not just for beauty but also
in relation to the concept of ‘role-model’, a type of
person we all should aspire to and emulate. Victoria
 “The psychologist tries to predict what is going on in
his patient’s head. The teacher in a similar manner tries
to understand what is going on in his pupils’ heads.”
Mia
 “Probably I am biased due to my second subject,
Personal and Social Education, but I truly believe that a
teacher is very much like a psychologist. The classroom
dynamics and the emphasis on the individual response,
the listening and feedback that are involved in
classroom discussions, the care for emotions and
feelings, all these make me believe that the
psychologist is the best match to describe a teacher of
literature job.” Luigi
The student-teachers’ comments refine and at times reinterpret their sense of the
role. Julie remarks, that while she picked a model as her choice, even if she had
picked other professions or trades, they would “all be lacking when compared to the
teaching profession” (Julie, Reflective Task 10: Metaphorical images of a teacher of
literature). Along the same lines, Ella (Reflective Task 10: Metaphorical images of
a teacher of literature) argues, “I find a match between a teacher and a matchmaker,
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however, while they might have similar roles, their responsibilities are completely
different.” Metaphors work on compromises, not exactitude of similarity.
9.7
Only connect…
Having explored at length four distinct but related themes in the identity of a teacher
of literature, ranging from one’s biography, to beliefs, conceptualising of the subject
and finally powerful images of teachers of literature, in the next chapter I pass on to
discuss teaching practice and issues related to assessment of the study-unit.
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CHAPTER 10
Two perspectives:
Teaching practice and assessment
10.1
Teaching practice and assessment of study-unit
In this chapter I will document the experiences of four student-teachers on a sixweek practicum, with special reference to their first attempts at a reader-responsebased Maltese literature teaching at a secondary school. I will then critically present
information in relation to assessment of the study-unit ‘The literary experience in
the secondary school,’ both as a personal journey from summative evaluation to an
assessment for learning modality, but especially student-teachers’ perspective of the
particular mode of assessment.
10.2
Teaching practice
Every student-teachers’ baptism of fire takes place during teaching practice, which
in Malta lasts around six weeks.
The “quality of student teachers’ learning
experiences in the field is a major concern for initial teacher education” (Tang,
2003: 483).
I agree with Grossman’s (1990: 143) conclusion, that “while
prospective teachers can learn much from their field experiences, they do not seem
to develop new conceptions of teaching their subject matter from classroom
experience alone.” In teacher training there will always be room for classroom
practice as well as space for guided meaningful reflection during a focused tutorial
with a lecturer.
This period may engender an identity crisis. They are not yet teachers and yet they
are expected to act as such; they are based in schools and treated as full-time staff,
but then they are expected to come to university for conferences and tutorials as
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university students. Within the same day they can pass from being regarded as
teachers and as students at university. As expressed by one student-teacher:
“During my last week of teaching practice I felt rather down and
depressed; I became accustomed to the routines of the school and
rhythm of classroom practice, and I had no desire to leave my cooperating teacher and fellow teachers who by then became my friends,
and neither let go the students since I really developed a very positive
rapport. On the other hand I miss my friends and peers at university.”
(Luigi, Portfolio – Your relationship with the co-operating teacher).
All student-teachers have to come to terms with the inherent tension of being
inside/outside at the same time. Another tension is evidenced in Lily Allen’s (2009)
words from her pop-single ‘The Fear,’ where the chorus reads:
I don’t know what’s right and what’s real anymore.
I don’t know how I’m meant to feel anymore.
When we think it will all become clear?
’Cuz I’m being taken over by The Fear.
I am sure that student-teachers on teaching practice think as Allen does, that what is
right becomes blurred; what they are living is too deep and touching that seems to
be as if unreal, feelings are at a frenzy ending up not knowing how one should feel.
‘The Fear’ may be very real to them and, from my experience, this can be an
intensely stressful period.
The data for this section regarding teaching practice comes mainly from the
portfolio, details of which are given in Chapter 5. Their portfolio was divided into
two broad sections: a compulsory component, or common core consisting of
artefacts such as an abstract, description of their teaching context, a selection of
positive practice, reflections and lesson evaluations; and section two, was a free-forall section based on a self-selected theme so long that it was in one way or another
related to literature. The portfolio process was further enhanced by a fortnightly
conference at University. For most part of this section on teaching practice, I chose
to illustrate my suppositions and conclusions by analysing in detail four studentteachers’ portfolios. The student-teachers were identified according to the following
four criteria:
 to have at least one student-teacher from each cohort to reflect the quality of the
portfolio experience which was slightly different from the first year to the next;
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 to have a broad spectrum of teaching contexts: a Junior Lyceum [Grammar
school], an Area Secondary [a sort of local comprehensive school], and a Church
School [Elite grammar school]);
 to ascertain a gender mix – having at least one male out of the two studentteachers enrolled in the first cohort, which meant having at least one male out of
the eighteen student-teachers participating in this research; and since in Malta we
rarely have a co-education system at secondary level, a blend of schools for boys
and girls; and
 their commitment towards the portfolio process and level of participation during
conferences.
Due to their different characteristics, these four student-teachers’ work can be
considered as representative of the whole group experience. The analysis touches
on a number of issues related to the experimentation with a reader-response
approach to teaching Maltese literature.
10.2.1 Notice boards, mobiles, SMSs and emails
If the teaching practice file is the emblem of the practicum experience, I am positive
that the second place goes to notice boards. Information about teaching practice is
affixed on the teaching practice notice board.
“God only knows how many times I passed the teaching practice board
to check if the secretary put on the list of schools we were going to be
assigned in for teaching practice. I remember it was Saturday evening,
just after mass, during which I prayed to be assigned in a not so
difficult school and to be able to adapt to the new environment, that I
received an SMS from a friend of mine saying that I was sent to a
Girls’ Area Secondary School, towards the south of the island. I
started crying, not out of joy, but tears of pain and despair, for I had
heard a lot of bad stories about students attending this school.”
(Suzanne, Portfolio – The School I taught literature in for the first time)
Luigi got to know about his school via email… “Joanne wrote in all excitement that
we were going to teach in the same Girls’ Junior Lyceum, towards the south” (Luigi,
Portfolio – The School I taught literature in for the first time). While Luigi and
Suzanne’s schools have approximately the same catchment area, the quality and
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cultural background (especially family background) is completely the opposite. On
the other hand, Kim, who was brought up attending state schools, had the
impression that her Church’s School environment would be rather “rigid” (Kim,
Portfolio – The School I taught literature in for the first time). Having taught for a
short period of time, just six consecutive Wednesdays, as part of her School
Experience, Allison felt a great relief after receiving an SMS from her friend
announcing she was assigned to another Boys’ Junior Lyceum, this at the middle of
the island, “imagining that it was going to be a little bit easier than the previous
year” (Allison, Portfolio – The School I taught literature in for the first time).
10.2.2 The four student-teachers’ teaching context
Kim soon found out that the “rigid” environment was completely different, for once
she set foot in the school she immediately changed her mind: “a disciplined school,
but at the same time calm, serene, impeccably clean, and full of love and care”
(Kim, Portfolio – The School I taught literature in for the first time). Her cooperating teachers used to give a lot of importance to literature, with one particular
teacher making an extra effort “so that pupils at her school develop a love for
literature” (Kim, Portfolio – The School I taught literature in for the first time). To
present literature vividly, the school was equipped with a number of resources,
organised a number of extra-curricular activities like Language Day or Favourite
Book Day, and amongst the most well received activities there were the use of
puppets with characters from the novels or stories and school outings related to the
texts they were reading in class. This goes to substantiate what Carter and Long
(1991: 3) have rightly argued: “The test of the teacher’s success in teaching
literature is the extent to which students carry beyond the classroom an enjoyment
and love for literature which is renewed as they continue to engage with literature
throughout their lives.” Furthermore, on their very first meeting with the proud cooperating teacher, Kim was shown a selection of students’ work related to literature
and taken around the classrooms which had a number of charts related to literature
on display. Kim concludes: “The fact that the classroom walls were all covered with
pupils’ work makes the classroom feel lived, more positive and beautiful, a
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celebration room of pupils’ successes in learning literature” (Portfolio – The School
I taught literature in for the first time). The co-operating teacher informed Kim that
she had great leeway in textbook selection, with the school librarian stocking the
latest publications in Maltese throughout the year, and that she shared her
experiences and work with her colleagues, a functional example of a community of
practitioners striving to excel for their pupils. Kim couldn’t ask for more. She was
going to work within a very receptive environment, within a school community that
embraces most of the precepts and principles of progressive education.
But not all experiences are as positive as Kim’s. A week before the school list was
published, Suzanne had a conversation with an ex-student-teacher about her
assigned school.
“I was shocked and scandalised to say the least with the stories she
was telling me: girls that rebel and start dancing during the lesson;
girls shouting at their teachers and head of school; drug addicts; tattoos
and body piercing; underage girls supposedly at school already in the
prostitution circles; girls who want to get pregnant and leave school
and live on social service. In just a few words: girls coming from a
cultural environment completely different from mine.
I was brought up in a good family, with sound values, where I
respected those older than myself, with a strong sense of inner
discipline that guides all my actions, within a family where love and
traditional values come first.”
(Suzanne, Portfolio – The School I taught literature in for the first time)
Luigi was very positive knowing he was going to teach at a Girls’ Junior Lyceum.
He visited the school library, only to notice the poor quantity and quality of the
Melitensia section. On the other hand, pupils reading for Maltese were encouraged
to carry out research on various topics related to the Maltese language. He was
impressed with the dedication shown by Maltese language teachers in organising the
Maltese Day, an event aimed at promoting everything Maltese, culture and
literature, to which even parents were invited.
Allison was impressed with the quiet atmosphere conducive to concentration and
learning. From all the activities related to Maltese, during the six weeks, she
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remembered mostly an author’s visit to the school. The pupils were reading Meta
Jaqa’ ċ-Ċpar [When Mist Falls], and the Maltese teachers invited Trevor Żahra to
deliver a talk to the Form 1 pupils. On the down side, Allison noticed that the
classrooms were rather bare, with no charts or presentations of students’ work.
Then, towards the end of the six weeks, the co-operating teacher set up two boards
with charts and information on Maltese folklore with special reference on Rites of
Passage.
Part of the student-teacher’s success rests in the match or mismatch between the
school’s and pupils’ culture and the student-teacher’s particular socio-cultural
background and personality, amongst other aspects, or as Tang (2003: 495) put it,
“different student teaching contexts offer varied opportunities of growth for student
teachers.”
10.2.3 The influence of their co-operating teacher
Coupled with the school environment and ethos, one influential factor during
teaching practice is the co-operating teacher. Suzanne and Kim were fortunate
enough to be attached to newly qualified teachers, themselves knowledgeable about
a reader-response approach to literature and keen experimenters with a certain
degree of success. They were interested in the latest methods that the studentteachers heard about at University or from time to time read in a publication, be it a
book or website, on the subject. From the start they were very supportive. For
example, after a difficult lesson, Suzanne, “discussed the issues with the cooperating teacher, and she encouraged me to carry on with the good stuff I was
trying to do, and suggested that I should interpret this ‘mini-failure’ (her words) as
an opportunity to build a stronger character, believe more in myself and
acknowledge my talents” (Suzanne, Portfolio – Lesson evaluation). Based on this
evidence, these two examples seem to validate Borko and Mayfield’s (1995)
finding, that is, where co-operating teachers believe in their educative role, they tend
to organise longer meetings and provide valuable feedback.
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Luigi and Allison were assigned to teachers with little or possibly no knowledge of a
response-based approach to teaching literature. They expected the student-teachers
to teach according to ‘their’ method, as if only that existed.
Notwithstanding personal limitations, the co-operating teacher remains a valuable
figure during teaching practice. Allison describes the co-operating teacher’s “moral
support” as “necessary and crucial” since previously he already had valuable
experience with other student-teachers (Allison, Portfolio – Your relationship with
the co-operating teacher). On more than one occasion, she asked for his opinion on
a previously planned lesson, especially the introduction, activities and handouts with
exercises. When she did so, “I used to feel more secure about my preparation”
(Allison, Portfolio – Your relationship with the co-operating teacher).
Luigi’s relationship with the co-operating teacher matured with time. He could
notice that keeping regular contact with the co-operating teacher gave him the
security he needed. Luigi used to discuss with his co-operating teacher nearly all his
literature lessons, at times asking for methodological help. In fact, I believe that
Luigi held a narrow vision of pedagogical content knowledge. His insistence on tips
and hints suggests that he was still grappling with the idea of carefully selecting a
technique out of a number of possibilities, contextualising the chosen method to the
students’ needs, weighing a number of factors and keeping in mind a number of
principles. He was still, even at the end, believing that pedagogy means formula
methods or things that work, thus, in my opinion, increasing his insecurities by
depending always on the co-operating teacher’s advice. Thus Luigi never got to feel
secure about his decisions, and till the end found difficulty in appreciating a wider
perspective of methodological insights from reader-response. It stands to the cooperating teacher’s credit that Luigi “identified clearly the strengths and
weaknesses” (Luigi, Portfolio – Your relationship with the co-operating teacher).
Thus, in their relationship with the co-operating teacher, the student-teachers
evidenced a sense of adaptability and found a modus vivendi resonant with their
personal traits. Luigi is the dependent type, constantly seeking direction, and is
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willing to accommodate, albeit to base all his practice, according to the co-operating
teacher’s dictate. Allison is dependent on her co-operating teacher, but at least she
puts forward her ideas first; she still needs the teacher’s approval, but at least they
are her plans. Kim befriends her co-operating teacher who, in turn, is willing to
share all her ideas, resources and experiences. It is a friendship among equals, since
both respect each other’s views, always willing to learn from each other. Suzanne is
the most independent of the four, a keen observer, listener and learner, but at the
same time is confident enough in her own ‘experimental’ ways.
She is not
discouraged by other teachers’ negative experiences and is willing to give it a try
even if she is aware she might fail. Her prime motor is her dedication to her fortyseven students, on whose reactions she seems to depend more than those of the cooperating teacher; indeed, her reflection on her students is one of the longest she
wrote for her portfolio, identifying a series of critical incidents that she experienced
during teaching practice. However, she is also willing to work hand-in-hand with
the co-operating teacher.
10.2.4 A work in progress in a reader-response approach to teaching literature
The student-teachers’ daily progress and events were recorded in their lesson
evaluations, and with the first cohort, in the Reflective Diary too. In their diary or
lesson evaluations they listed all their experiences with a reader-response approach
to teaching literature, as promulgated at University during my study-unit. Reading
through the different evaluations and diary entries, it becomes evident that studentteachers initially (and for some it means for the whole duration of teaching practice)
are interested in the nuts and bolts of things. They are more keen on discipline and
relationship with pupils rather than issues related to the reading act. This agrees
with what Moore (2003: 37-38) found on preservice teachers whilst on teaching
practice – “Attention to procedural or management issues emerged as a defining
characteristic” – with more than 95% of his cohort identifying it as their prime
concern. For example, Luigi, in his second week wrote: “The only thing I am
worried about is that I waste too much time to settle all my students to commence
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the lesson” (Luigi, Portfolio – Lesson evaluation).
More specifically Suzanne
(Portfolio – Lesson evaluation), reflected on her first lesson thus:
“This was the worst lesson I ever did. I had a big problem with my
class discipline. I could not control four students and they ruined the
whole lesson. They were arrogant, and started undermining my
authority with jokes and laughing at my face rather hysterically. One
student turned her chair to face the opposite side where I was, and
carried on eating her lolly-pop even if I said to her to throw it away. I
lost all patience and started to halt the lesson to stop them from being
rude. I lost my concentration and instead of writing legibly, my
handwriting was illegible even to me. I was not sure of what I was
saying. [….] The rest of the class tried to join in the carnival, for they
sensed that I was losing control. The students’ behaviour broke all my
self-confidence, and I started seriously to think that I was not cut out
for the teaching profession.”
Maybe not all first encounters are like Suzanne’s, but it is an eye opener for an
examiner or tutor to get an idea of the emotional turbulence and great stress certain
student-teachers endure away from university having to teach for the first time for
six weeks. They are planning a number of activities – catchy introductions; openended questions to lead the various discussions; trying to identify creative ways of
reading a text; writing tasks in inventive non-standard ways; and follow-up
exercises supposedly to be done at home – all of which are performed for the first
time. Therefore, for the first few weeks they are concerned with the relative success
of each segment of the lesson.
On the other hand, one initial failure or a number of failures, so long as identified,
reflected upon, shared with someone like a colleague, co-operating teacher, friend or
examiner, can indeed be a learning experience. Suzanne, just a few lessons and
days later, changed her attitude, and although still focusing on the nuts and bolts,
she was more proactive and positive in her approach, focusing away from discipline
issues. There are those student-teachers that seem to learn rather quickly from
experience. Time for many is a great teacher, especially when they have reflective
skills sharpened to learn on their own; at least this was Hascher, Cocard and
Moser’s findings (2004), as well as Aschroft and Griffiths (1989). These are a
number of examples taken from just one lesson evaluation…
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“In my opinion the flashcards were the right resource for the
brainstorming activity in the introduction of the lesson on the story. I
know that the brainstorming activity with this class works well, for
they can come up with all sorts of responses to work on later on…”
“The selected reading read and recorded by my brother was an
excellent idea because it helped the students to enter into the
atmosphere of the story.”
“The questions I prepared were interesting and motivated the students
to participate in the discussion that in my opinion was balanced, and I
enjoyed it too.”
“The students did not find the diary writing activity difficult. It is true
that there were those that did not start writing immediately when I said
so, but on the whole it worked well, especially my feedback and
further suggestions as they were working.”
“Students suggested a number of possible endings to the story, and I
was amazed with their ideas. Their endings reflect their character:
those that are more pessimistic suggested a negative ending, while
those that are more positive recommended a more positive ending.”
“On a more negative note, I prepared too many questions for the
discussion in relation to the time I had to actually discuss the text and
theme. I felt that I was milking a dead cow, for the discussion was
unnecessarily prolonged and students were even bored. It would have
been much better to just have two powerful questions, and leave it at
that.”
“I should have given them more time to write their diary page. With
more time, their writing would greatly improve. I felt I was not going
to have enough time for the conclusion and asked to hurry up.
However, next time, conclusions do not have to be so long and
dragging.”
(Suzanne, Portfolio – Lesson evaluation)
The length, level of detail and attention to particular aspects of a lesson is not at all
homogeneous. Reflective writing can reach different levels by different students
(vide Chapter 4). For example Luigi and Allison always seem to grapple with the
basics of writing reflectively. They are rather superficial in their selection of topics,
and cannot seem to identify the aspects of their teaching that really warrant
attention.
They often blame others, usually the school and pupils, for their
misgivings and faults. For example, in the fifth week, Luigi in his ‘What worked
less well’ wrote only:
“Like I already noted in previous lesson evaluations, I find few aspects
that went not as well as I had planned. I repeat, that the only thing that
went wrong was the use of two pictures that actually were not that
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clear, and I couldn’t do anything about them since at school they don’t
have internet connection and a colour printer! Next time I need better
quality pictures.
I need to check that during the lesson conclusion I revise the texts’
main points, even though during this lesson it wasn’t my fault at all
that I did not finish to do so by the end of the lesson; the lesson had to
be halted three times since different people knocked at the door three
times, with people having to talk to pupils about this and that all the
time.”
(Luigi, Portfolio – Lesson evaluation)
Luigi washes his hands from the responsibility to plan in advance and review all
resources prior to the particular lesson, and instead blames the school for not being
properly equipped. On another occasion, he blames the lesson interruptions, while
actually he failed to think on how to modify his plans there and then (reflection-in
action) to finish on time without unnecessarily leaving out the conclusion. In his
last literature lesson evaluation he wrote: “When I look back and revise what went
less according to expectations, I hardly find anything that did not function or was
not received well” (Luigi, Portfolio – Lesson evaluation), then carrying on how the
pictures he used could have been of a better size… after six weeks he is still
ignoring other important features. In effect, when the examiner visited Luigi, he
listed a number of important aspects that were missing or not functioning well.
Therefore, Luigi was guided to focus on other aspects but he seems to ignore all
suggestions to consider other aspects/competencies. On the positive side, Luigi
seems to reflect in action rather quickly: “When I realised that the students at the
back were not seeing the pictures, I made them go round the class rather than
sticking them to the board at the front” (Luigi, Portfolio – Lesson evaluation). The
same quick modification and alertness could have saved him not being able to finish
the lesson in time and according to plan.
Looking at all the lesson evaluations, it seems evident that Schön’s reflection-onaction (vide Chapter 4) seems to be the rule. For example, Suzanne is continuously
reflecting on what went wrong, and is rather harsh on herself for not anticipating the
result during her planning stage:
“Since these students are a little bit more advanced than the rest, next
time I will not make the same step of verse by verse analysis of the
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poem. Today it was a monotonous and boring step, and I am now
confident they can participate in something more engaging, like a
drawing, a day in the diary of a poet, write a monologue… But
sometimes it is not just a question of coming up with a bright idea,
because you think it is excellent, and then things crop up during the
lesson, and you start to realise that it wasn’t as excellent as initially
thought.”
(Suzanne, Portfolio – Lesson evaluation)
This feature of reflection is inbuilt in the three category template used by all studentteachers: What went well? What went less well than expected? Targets for
improvement or what I could do better for next time? As already remarked, the
length and depth of the reflections vary greatly from one student to the next.
While this was their first attempt at a reader-response approach to teaching
literature, from the lesson evaluations it comes out rather clear that they were trying
their best to implement in their classrooms this kind of teaching. I find that rather
courageous for they were making a big leap of faith in promoting this kind of
teaching approach. They were taking my word for it, and possibly believing some
of the main pedagogues. Furthermore, they had to mentally visualise what their
classes would look like if they employed, as they did, a reader-response approach to
teaching literature. And more daring than that, to envision their pupils’ reactions to
not so common methods. Considering all these premises, they set on the journey of
becoming reader-response teachers of literature.
One key feature that emerged is their emphasis on experimentation with ‘new’
imaginative approaches and activities. They knew that the more interactive their
lessons the more probable they are in eliciting a response, a response that they can
later build on and explore further. Their efforts can be said to have been on two
interrelated fronts: different activities that distance themselves from the traditional
approach to teaching literature (Table 10.1), and a selection of resources to animate
the response-based classroom (Table 10.2). I selected their own words where they
describe their reactions or pupils’ positive reactions to an activity or resource.
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Table 10.1: A selection of activities conducive to a reader-response approach to
teaching literature
Techniques
Role-plays
Close exercises
Fantasy trip
Background music
End prediction
Note writing in groups
Student-teachers’ own words
“The introduction of the lesson with a role-play was an effective one with
both the two participating students and myself, and the remaining students
listening attentively to the play. Through the role-play the bull-fighting
theme of the selected text was more than evident to the whole class.” Luigi
“An exercise that really worked was handing out a copy of the text with
some missing words, and they had to fill with suitable ones according to
the context. This helped them to focus on the very basic stuff of literature.”
Kim
“As part of the introduction I took my pupils on a fantasy trip, and it was
easier for them to visualise the scenery in the poem.” Allison
“During reading the text I used background music to relax the students and
help them listen more attentively to the text.” Allison
“I involved the students as much as I could: I asked them to come out and
write on the board, encouraged them to read the text in front of their class,
discuss parts of the text without losing control or having to shout, they
truly were the centre of my attention and the centre of the lesson.” Kim
“I left them all opportunity to work in groups on how the story ends… for
predicting or anticipating the ending is an essential part of becoming a
competent reader.” Kim
“Even the reading of the text was a success, with everyone listening quietly
and eagerly waiting the end of the story.” Luigi
“I reckon that the note writing in groups worked rather well today.”
Suzanne
Table 10.2: A selection of resources used in the implantation of a reader-response
approach to literature
Resources
Video
An ad hoc exercise
booklet
Jigsaw puzzle
Pictures
Flashcards
Bookmarks
Student-teachers’ own words
“I am sure that the factor that stirred most interest was those few minutes
from the film ‘About a Boy.’ They told me they never saw a video or parts
of it during a Maltese lesson. The short piece related to bull-fighting, and
introduced the lesson’s topic really effectively.” Suzanne
“The students were impressed with the small booklet with the story and
exercises I prepared for them with ribbons, bows and colourful paper. They
tried to write better than usual, more of them preferring to write in pencil
and copy everything at home when they had more time.” Suzanne
“The jigsaw puzzle in the introduction really worked well, and the two
groups entered into a competition to finish first. It wasn’t an easy task, but
with staunch collaboration, communication and negotiation they reached to
the most important part, that the old man was standing alone. This helped
them understand better the poem.” Suzanne
“I showed the students a picture of a lonely man and asked them to describe
what they are seeing and how does he feel, in order to help them empathise
better with the main character of the novel.” Kim
“In my opinion, the flashcards are great for introducing a brainstorming
session to relate to the story. I am confident to carry out such a task with
this class because in one way or another the students immediately give their
response.” Suzanne
“I gave the students a piece of cardboard the size of a bookmark. They were
asked to write a slogan about youth and on the backside a slogan on old age.
They loved drawing a picture to compliment their words.” Kim
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Changing the venue
of the lesson
Reading a text
differently
“Since today only a small number of students attended school, I wanted to
go against the norm and delivered a successful lesson in the school’s
courtyard. They were enthusiastic to go out of the classroom for a breath of
fresh air and enjoy the sun. The major theme of today’s lesson was nature,
and the trees, plants and flowers were so befitting. By the end of the lesson
they had to sow a seedling in a plastic planter, and one of them said, ‘Miss,
you don’t have to buy us all this stuff.’ I felt so proud, since I felt and knew
that it was a sign that they were noticing that I am different from other
teachers… that I care for them.” Suzanne
“The text read by a male actor really moved the students. They really got
into the atmosphere of the whole text, and one asked if we could listen to
the story once more.” Suzanne
“I used reading in a circle for the first time, and it worked. I broke off with
the monotony of the standard class layout, and pupils that usually shy back
from reading in class, today felt confident enough to try to read.” Suzanne
10.2.5 Difficulties in implementing response-based literature lessons during
teaching practice
The journey towards a response-based literature classroom was not without its
difficulties. Student-teachers reported in the lesson evaluations a number of
incidents that evidenced either one of the following three main reasons:
 pupils’ lack of training in certain methods and techniques, resulting in over
excitement or pure resistance thus alienating them from the real aim of the lesson
– Table 10.3;
 poor implementation techniques from the student-teacher’s side, mainly in over
eagerness to try something new or lack of experience in handling certain
situations – Table 10.4; and
 pure chance, like when disruptive pupils are absent, and both student-teacher and
remaining pupils are more confident in their practice in class:
“Today’s success can be attributed to the fact that students that usually
interrupt the lesson with useless questions and jokes, today they stayed at
home. The classroom had a completely different atmosphere to it. Girls that
usually remain silent in fear that they would be bullied, today really
participated and engaged in the discussion.” (Suzanne, Portfolio – Lesson
evaluation)
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Table 10.3: Reasons related to pupils’ lack of experience with a reader-response
approach to teaching literature
Reason
Pupils’ lack of
Over
domestication
excitement
with a readerresponse
approach
Description of event in the student-teacher’s own words
“Next time I will try to record the text rather than always having
to listen to me do the first reading. It would be a change for the
better… the students were already so enthusiastic about it when
I told them my plans that they did not let me finish my lesson in
an adequate manner.” Luigi
Classroom
management
“The students did not realise that the discussion was over, and
some of them carried on talking, thus hindering the smooth
development of the lesson.” Kim
“Students tend to waste a lot of time to arrive in class on time;
occasionally eight to ten minutes are wasted till everyone
arrives.” Luigi
Nostalgia of
the traditional
method
“Some Form 1 students still carry on asking questions on rhyme
and meter, and the difference between a traditional and a
modern poem. I had to explain that those points will be better
dealt with and explained in the years to come.” Kim
“Some students wanted to take out the book and fill in the
poets’ words… it was hard to convince them that their words
were important at this stage of the lesson.” Kim
Silent-reading
“When my students perform silent reading they do not know
what they are doing right or wrong, and therefore opt not to
read at all. They find SSR rather pointless. Even though they
know that they are not such good readers, they prefer to have an
audience and a teacher that corrects their intonation, or suggests
how they should read a difficult long word.” Suzanne
“My students are not accustomed to silent reading, I thought it
was going to be an automatic activity, but many of them just
stared at me for the duration of the activity.” Kim
Table 10.4: Reasons related to student-teachers’ lack of experience with a response
based classroom
Poor
implementation
techniques
Time
management
“I did not make the necessary link between the introduction and
the first activity. Moreover, I did not explain in enough detail
the writing exercise, and did not plan enough time to complete
the task in class.” Kim
“When I have a long poem, it is better if I divide it in at least
two parts corresponding to two lessons.” Kim
“Next time I will keep the lesson plan right in front of me, so if
I either hurry a bit or slow the lesson, or forget altogether a step,
I will notice immediately.” Kim
“Students finished their class work and homework within
minutes. I still have to gauge the type of exercise with their
abilities. One other suggestion would be to have supplementary
work for those that like to work hard and fast.” Kim
“I tried too much to squeeze too many activities – class
discussion and group work – in thirty-five minutes.” Kim
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Uncertainties
on what a
readerresponse
approach
entails
“I feel that in today’s lesson I was uncertain on the emphasis I
had to give to the different rhetorical figures. I forgot to
mention some of them, and the ones I picked, I did so only
minimally and marginally. Actually I don’t know what was
learnt.” Suzanne
“I made a mistake in searching for a critical comment on this
poem before the lesson, and since it struck me, I tried
everything I could to pass it over to the students. Now I realise
that that note was not that important to them. Ideally I should
have left the students to come up with their own interpretation,
but I was pressed for time and I knew that the poem was rather
remote from their experience and difficult. Not everything that
struck me, needs to attract my students’ attention, or mean that I
have to present it to them.” Suzanne
“I need to better plan my questions. Really difficult, open-ended
questions like, ‘What does this poem mean to you?’ sound
rather bombastic in my classroom and are rather vague. They
need to lead the students from the concrete to the abstract, and
be tailor-made to their abilities.” Suzanne
“One technique that I did not develop well was a character map
on the board. I could have better planned the character name
layout on the board, and then ask them to copy it in their file as
part of their lesson note.” Allison
Student-teachers can be seen becoming more conscious that their efforts are not
always rewarded in classrooms. They evidence greater caution when introducing a
new technique or method of teaching.
“In class I need to ‘struggle’ to elicit their response. They are not
accustomed to working in groups. I want to be their teacher who helps
them develop their response, and build a bridge between their lives and
the texts we read. But I know it is going to be an uphill journey!”
(Allison, Portfolio – Lesson evaluation)
However, with time their efforts may be repaid.
“Unlike the previous items which were to be answered with a true or
false, I left the last question open-ended. They were a little bit baffled,
but I wanted to show them that a poem can have more than one
meaning.”
(Suzanne Portfolio – Lesson evaluation)
10.2.6 Experience, response and interpretation
One critical feature of a constructivist classroom or a response-based classroom is
the role of experience. I hammered into my student-teachers the need to start from
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the known and experienced, develop an argument or discussion based on pupils’
experiences and try to bridge the text to the pupils’ experience. So two related key
terms within the response-based classroom, interpretation and response, have been
emphasised ad nausea. But, from the following comments in Table 10.5, it pays to
stress the prime role of experience, interpretation and response within the reading
act, for they become a sort of mantra for them.
Table 10.5: The role of experience, interpretation and response in the
reading/interpretation act
Statements about experience
“Today’s lesson was one of the best lessons ever.
I felt good preparing it since I liked the selected
text and I immediately noticed that it reflected
current pupils’ lives and dreams.” Luigi
“I wanted them to experience the poems rather
than me explaining to them verse by verse. I
kicked off the lesson by relating the text to their
experiences.” Kim
“My aim was to help students identify, describe
and empathise with the main characters of the
novel.” Kim
Statements about interpretation and response
“It is only when the reader gives his/her own
personal response to the text, that that text
becomes literature.” Suzanne
“During the whole lesson I tried my best not to
impose my opinion or interpretation on my
students. I guided them through carefully
planned questions to explore the text, and
formulate a personal opinion about the text.”
Kim
“I feel that it is important to have some time to
reflect on one’s own, before sharing with others
ones’ response.” Kim
“When the students were sharing their response
with their peers, in groups and later on as a class,
they realised that different students had different
opinions and reactions about the texts.” Kim
Successes are not that difficult to come by either. Knowing that the pupils are
actually learning something new, in an innovative way and with possibly a more
lasting effect, brings pride and satisfaction:
“Choral reading really worked today with class 3.2. They seemed to
enjoy waiting for their turn and read/shout their verse. They will not
forget it for sure.”
(Suzanne, Portfolio – Lesson evaluation)
“It was of great satisfaction today to be asked in class by Jacqueline to
read in class. Usually she does not participate during the lessons, but
today, following the class discussion on how to write a poem, she was
keen enough and wanted to read to the class the short story
‘inspiration’.”
(Suzanne, Portfolio – Lesson evaluation)
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10.2.7 Models of best practice in teaching according to a reader-response
approach
A section of the student-teachers’ common core of their portfolio dealt specifically
with models of good practice, be it: resources, a model lesson with a set of activities,
a quality reading in class, arriving at an interpretation, or anything they felt they
excelled in. Reading through the examples, one gets the idea of an eager and
fervent experimentation.
Their criteria seem to have been mainly to offer the
experience of a meaningful and deep engagement with the text at hand, facilitated
by good quality resources, producing in some cases a lasting sense of selfsatisfaction. The following are some examples.
10.2.7.1
Best lesson
Suzanne, reflecting on her best lesson related to Form 1 class novel, rather than
facing the computer screen for inspiration, plunges herself in methodology books
suggested for this study-unit, Collie and Slater’s Literature in the Language
Classroom, and Duff’s Literature. In her own words, “the moment of planning a
literature lesson was demystified when I started to keep as companions the
suggested reference books and reading pack… from then on, planning a literature
lesson was not an endless race to think of something highly original and preferably
effective, but rather two complementary processes: a joyful exploration and
acknowledgement of what others have done before, and a longer but at the same
time rewarding process of adaption to my needs” (Julie, Portfolio – My best
literature lesson). ‘What would happen next?!’ was Suzanne’s best lesson title, and
as suggested was based on the principle of ‘Anticipating and retrospecting’ by
Benton and Fox (1985: 14). The pedagogical principle that inspired this lesson is
“the continuous series of short- and long-term predictions and a complementary
series of short- and long-term retrospections” (Benton and Fox, 1985: 14). On the
other hand, the critical principle that this lesson is based on is quite a simple one: as
readers “we engage in a range of predictive activities including thinking through
particular problems ‘in advance’, extrapolating, hypothesizing, speculating and
guessing,” for indeed “children’s reading, particularly, is characterized by a sense of
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anticipation” (Benton and Fox, 1985: 14). Capitalising on this instinct, Suzanne,
rightly planned the following lesson:
“As I entered the classroom I could notice that the children, even if in
the afternoon, had an expression of enthusiasm. They got used to that
something ‘new’ each time we meet, and their eagerness motivates me
further. I knew that the lesson’s activity was recommended by two
pedagogues I admire, and that was in a sense a guarantee of success…
had I applied well their ideas. My only preoccupation was if I had
planned too many activities, two, for this lesson. I introduced the
lesson by asking them if they had ever done something risky; the
children in the novel passed through the fog without knowing what
would happen… a risky thing not knowing if they would ever return
home or where they were heading. I encouraged the students to write
a note to their parents informing them what they were going to do,
exactly like the children in the novel did before entering into the fog. I
asked them to anticipate what their parents would do once they read
their note. Some suggested that they would go mad, others said they
would go to the police, and others suggested they would run like wild
trying to find them. The whole experience was realistic and
electrifying. Then I read a selection from Chapter 6, where one finds
the description of the passage through the fog of the main characters.
After that, I distributed a simple questionnaire as an exercise where
they had to fill in what they would take with them on this scary
journey. Then I read the part where they were still in the fog, and then
I stopped. Next I asked them two things: anticipate where the main
characters would be led from the fog and if they would have joined the
children in the novel in their adventure. They were very imaginative
and creative in their answers. I felt really satisfied after the lesson for
the prediction really worked well, in a sense it was they who did the
lesson, I acted as a guide… Had the examiner observed this lesson, I
have no doubt that s/he would have been impressed too.”
(Suzanne, Portfolio – My best literature lesson)
10.2.7.2
My best resource
The success of a response-based classroom rests in the variety of resources. The
student-teachers recognised this principle of effective teaching early on during their
teaching practice. Having to produce so many resources per week, was a taxing
endeavour, not without its rewards. One Reflective Task as part of their portfolio
was to select one to three best resources and explain why they considered them their
best.
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“It was a problem having to select the best resource. I find it difficult
to choose, and this was one of the difficulties during teaching practice.
Sometimes it takes me long to decide on something, since I would like
to choose the best possible option, and it takes me ages and time flies
at a time when every minute is precious. One of the things I learnt
during this teaching practice was that one needs to decide on so many
things without having the necessary time to do so.”
(Allison, Portfolio – My best literature related resource)
Rather than its quality per se, the result that the selected resource achieved when
used in class was what made Allison’s choice easier. It was a handout with a series
of comments made by different people and students had to say whether or not they
agreed with what was written.
“I used it as a springboard for discussion prior to reading the poem. It
was well received because it was something completely different for
them. I felt proud listening to students that before I hardly if ever heard
their voice in class, speaking and arguing with their peers.
Furthermore, an examiner saw me using this particular resource and
commented favourably about it.”
(Allison, Portfolio – My best literature related resource).
10.2.7.3
Reading a text, differently
One crucial element of any literature lesson is the reading of the text. Voicing the
text can be a difficult skill to master, and a teacher who cannot read well should
really think twice in becoming a teacher of literature. The following is an example
of a reading in class that capitalises on both the pupils’ abilities and the studentteachers’ background and knowledge.
“I used to pick out some pupils to come out and read selections from
the novel in front of the class. It wasn’t at all difficult to assign pupils
to characters in the novel and narrator. They all volunteered to read.
Then we arrived on a page where there were two old people who speak
in dialect. Since the students knew I can speak in dialect, and so
immediately they used to say, ‘Miss, you should read those parts in
dialects, and we would like to listen to you reading them.’ And I
would change a little my voice to imitate better those two old people.
Sometimes they would just start laughing when they heard me use my
dialect, but I was not ashamed of it. I was just helping them read the
text in a more unique way, always related to the lesson’s aim of
enjoying reading. From this experience I learnt that each literary text
has its own particular way to be read in a beautiful way, but it is only
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the teacher that has all the cards in her hands to present reading in an
unforgettable way!”
(Kim, Portfolio – The reading act: Voicing and Interpretation)
10.2.7.4
Interpreting a text
Reading a text in an unforgettable way is the first step towards an engagement with
the text. It requires more skill and tact to then lead a discussion or activity that
guides the student towards an exploration of the text, possibly arriving at an
interpretation of it. Luigi tried to experiment with an activity that involved drawing
as an initial response, on which to build ideas of interpretation gaining depth and
substance by referring to some words from the text. Like many other activities, this
was the first time he experimented with drawing as evidence of an individual
response, that would later on be used as the basis for the sharing within the
community of that response.
“I did not know if I would succeed or not, but I wanted to use drawing
in one of my poetry lessons. I wanted to see what they would come out
with; to check if the pupils would transfer their feelings in drawings
rather than words. They never did such an activity, and I was prepared
for some resistance. But all my worst fears faded away, as I started
explaining to them what I wanted them to do. After explaining twice,
and going round to check if everyone had understood, I noticed that
they were happily and enthusiastically engrossed in drawing, both the
poet’s view of the word in the text, and adjacent to it, how they saw
the world. Then each student had to select a quote from the text, to
illustrate the poet’s point of view. Under the drawing with their
personal view, they had to write a short sentence explaining what they
drew. Once finished, a class discussion followed, with the different
points listed on the board copied as a note to the text and their
interpretation of events in life.”
(Luigi, Portfolio – The reading act: Voicing and interpretation
10.2.8 Final comments and evaluations
Student-teachers were asked to describe what they managed to achieve during their
six weeks with pupils. Impressionistic comments were substantiated by a number of
stories of successful and less successful encounters. Reflections and judgments
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were not all idealistic, but grounded in their environment, where academic success
was not always easily measurable, but a change in attitude and values regarding
literature was more easily documented.
“With great satisfaction I truly believe that during these six weeks
students understood and learnt that literature can also speak to them,
that there is an essential relationship between the text and them.”
(Kim, Portfolio – The students I was teaching literature to)
“Through my methods and dedication I think I transmitted an idea of
literature as something that can be a source of joy, that literature does
not have to be monotonous and depressing, and that themes found in
literature are everyday and common people’s experiences, just like
them.”
(Suzanne, Portfolio – The students I was teaching literature to)
“I feel they have made some progress since I could notice a better
response towards the end. I made them reflect on the fact that literature
is not the Bible, with one single authoritative interpretation. Literature is
open to different interpretations. We experimented with different
reading styles. I noticed students were more conscious about changing
their voice when reading different parts of the text that require a
different voice.”
(Allison, Portfolio – The students I was teaching literature to)
Students often surprised student-teachers, especially with questions or reflections:
“One pupil asked me, ‘Why do Maltese authors always write about
negative experiences?’”
(Kim, Portfolio – The students I was teaching literature to)
“I was caught on one foot when they asked me why they have to learn
literature, especially poems by heart, when they did not understand
them. And then they blasted out, ‘Miss, Maltese poets always speak on
the dark side of life. We already have our set of problems, for sure we
don’t need theirs to!’”
(Luigi, Portfolio – The students I was teaching literature to)
“Given the opportunity pupils will surprise anyone. For example
during one lesson, with a text on motherhood, a student asked, ‘Do
you think that all mothers love their children the same as Dun Karm’s
mother did love him?’ I did not know how to answer. Related to
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questioning technique, I noticed that with open-ended questions I was
opening a small window on their hearts and minds.”
(Suzanne, Portfolio – The students I was teaching literature to)
This last statement opens a host of ethical concerns inherent in any response-based
classroom. How far should the teacher delve in the personal lives of students? Is it
ethical to ask for a response that is very revealing of the self? Can students opt out
from discussing personal feelings? What will happen to those students that are too
open about their experiences? Vulnerability and confidentiality issues crop up.
There are no easy questions, but once literature becomes read more than just as a
text with a theme and a number of figures of speech, then one is living the potential
of the text. Awareness of context, of the students’ background, one’s limits, should
all be considered by the student-teacher and teacher to know how far to go.
One final comment of who taught what to who. We consider the classroom as the
place where the teacher teaches the student something. However, the reverse is also
true. After the teaching practice Kim admits that:
“These students taught me a lot regarding literature. I was taught that
literature can have a multitude of responses and interpretations. I used
to go in class with the conviction that this was the interpretation of the
text, the one I had studied and thought about for days. Then, in class,
this was not the case! When I asked them to tell me what they
understood and substantiate their answers with words from the text
(the verification principle of any interpretation), they would come out
with interpretations full of fantasy and imagination. It is through them
that I learnt to appreciate Maltese literature more.”
(Kim, Portfolio – The students I was teaching literature to)
Suzanne also admits that her students taught her a lesson or two…
“My students taught me several lessons. They taught me that even if
at times one does not see immediately the fruits of one’s investments,
one should not be disheartened rapidly. They taught me that change
takes time and great effort to be effective. They taught me that if I
believe in or desire something really well, then I should work hard to
see it through. Those students that initially I found a great difficulty
and had to struggle to initiate a rapport with, were the ones that by the
end I had the best relationship with by far.”
(Suzanne, Portfolio – The students I was teaching literature to)
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10.2.8.1
Dénouement
By the end of teaching practice, student-teachers had experienced a number of
incidents where they had to defend their choices and justify their positions. While
initially some of them were fearful of the school environment, by the end, some
reported they could notice a marked change.
“After six weeks in this school, contrary to my initial impressions, I
strongly believe that some teachers, especially the younger ones, are
making a genuine effort to provide the pupils with a relevant and
worthwhile learning experience, especially where literacy is
concerned. I have met teachers encouraged students to read and go to
the school’s library. While only few pupils select to read in their free
time, they usually prefer to read in Maltese, since it is an easier and
more natural language for them. Commendable is the effort to
organise small group literacy remedial classes for those students that
find most difficulties. I registered a good progress in those students
that attended these lessons. However, it is with great regret that I
complained about the timing of the remedial classes, usually falling
when I used to have literature lessons. To the co-operating teachers,
literacy skills (like filling a job application form, or writing a
curriculum vitae), were more important than reading and appreciating
literature. They chose for their students and it was as if nobody
noticed what the pupils were actually gaining and missing at the same
time. They said that it was more relevant for these pupils to know
basic literacy skills, than literature, ‘For with or without literature, the
world would still go round.’ That really hurt, coming from a nearly
newly qualified teacher.”
(Suzanne, Portfolio – The school I taught in literature for the first time)
10.3
Assessment as a ‘subversive’ method of lecturing
It has been already argued that a change in teaching and learning needs to find
reflection in a change in mode of assessment (vide Chapter 5). Thus this section
focuses exclusively on the second cycle student-teachers, with whom I
experimented with assessment for learning, mainly through the adoption of
portfolios and, more pertinent, the development and employment of two rubrics
(vide Appendix B) to assess the whole gamut of experiences and mini-assignments
they had to complete.
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After the first cycle and reading on assessment for learning principles, I became
convinced that one cannot think about teaching without thinking ahead of the forms
of assessment. The assessment will describe what learning has taken place, ranging
from tasks in classroom to what role tests and examinations have (if any) within a
different frame of mind. I was convinced that I could not become a better lecturerresearcher without rethinking the role assessment had on the whole process of
teaching the study-unit ‘The literary Experience in Secondary School.’ As stated by
Gipps (1994: 125; my emphasis): “The key difference between formative
assessment and summative assessment is not timing, but purpose and effect.”
Rather than just assign a test towards the end of a study-unit, as I had done with the
first group, embracing assessment for learning meant that even the kind of lecturing
and learning experience had to be rethought, evaluated and radically changed. I was
very much aware that proponents of assessment for learning acknowledge that
embarking on this journey, apart from being a practical learning experience in itself,
is a “risky” business which embraces a “diversity in trajectories of change” (Black,
Harrison, Lee, Marshall and Wiliam, 2003: 118-119) and above all “requires
personal change” (Black, Harrison, Lee, Marshall and Wiliam, 2003: 80).
Change towards assessment model of teaching/learning may touch upon these areas:
the kind of questioning that takes place during instruction; feedback through
marking; peer- and self- assessment by students; and surprisingly enough for me, the
formative use of summative tests (Black, Harrison, Lee, Marshall and Wiliam, 2003:
31-57).
To these, one might add the sharing of criteria between teacher and
students, and among students themselves (Black and Wiliam, 1998). This personal
conviction moves hand in hand with current knowledge, that is, “widespread use of
explicit criteria and descriptors [is] now firmly established in HE…” (Price and
O’Donovan, 2006: 108). In addition, their structure, the dialogical way they ought
to come into being through transactions between students and teacher, and their
purpose is wide and critical for the development of reflection and meta-cognition.
Student-teachers’ understanding of criteria improves performance, especially when
they are made explicit and are the result of “active-learning processes” (Price and
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O’Donovan, 2006: 108). Apart from these reasons, criteria are crucial stand-alone
features of both rubrics and conferences, two intrinsic aspects of formative
assessment. Since in my ethnographic research I wanted to experiment, implement
and monitor a change not only in pedagogy but also assessment, these areas were all
put into practice at one time or another of my project.
10.3.1 My experience with the first cohort
My point of departure was exclusively the traditional way of assessing a study-unit:
a test at the end of the second semester at the very end of the academic year. I
announced the mode of assessment on our very first lecture, and over twenty-eight
lectures later, they had to sit for a test. It must be kept in mind that student-teachers
had to keep a reflective diary, work a number of reflective tasks, compile a
portfolio, all of which was not minimally considered in their final grade. However,
I am convinced that the above three activities have helped them learn in a more
effective way the content of this study-unit. In an hour, they had to choose and
answer between two broad questions in Table 10.6:
10.6: The test questions for the first cohort
1. Different pedagogues propose different models of a literature lesson divided
into various stages. Discuss the relevance of one model you found particularly
useful when preparing a literature lesson during your teaching practice in a
secondary school.
2. One cannot have a discussion during a literary experience lesson without the
proper preparation and selection of different types of questions that will animate
it. Discuss with special reference to a specific example suitable for secondary
school students of your choice.
All student-teachers performed well, and could answer both questions with ease.
However, they had just the same examination stress, and would have preferred
something different, a mode of assessment that would acknowledge their efforts and
293
competences mastered throughout the study-unit. The answer to their desires was
not easy to find, construct, and implement and assess.
10.3.2 Leap of faith: Embracing and implementing an assessment for learning
framework
However, having read about portfolio assessment during that same year, I was
willing to take my project a step further.
That is, embracing throughout the
assessment for learning culture, with its emphasis on feedback, self- and peer
assessment, multiple sources as evidence to support judgement, and rubric
construction (vide Chapter 5). Actually this leap of faith was a very calculated risk,
for I had already been doing most of the assessment practices according to a
constructivist classroom or an assessment for learning framework, with the first
group, without actually on a personal level taking credit for it, or really giving credit
to my student-teachers for their attempts (vide Chapter 8). Having learnt from the
experience with the 2003-2004 cohort, I was willing to go all the way and try to
assess for the first time the study-unit with a 100% assessment for learning style.
Assessment for learning culture brings with it a heightened awareness of the
teaching and learning process, and infusing assessment with the learning experience
as a continuous dialogical process (vide Chapter 5). It meant a change of long-held
habits to accommodate a new way of conceiving teaching.
In doing so, my
relationship with each student-teacher improved since an assessment for learning
process warrants a continuous flow of open discussion, a search for individual
meaning with feedback at the heart of assessment. Furthermore, I felt responsible to
constantly guide student-teachers to review and improve their performance and
output. This was acknowledged by a number of student-teachers; this comment is
representative: “I felt that our lecturer always strived to encourage us to aim higher
… there were times when I felt I had given my best, but with tactful questions, I
could easily, then, identify room for improvement” (Marika, Portfolio –
Evaluation).
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Having had a one year experience with the process, I presented information in Table
10.7 to illustrate visually the new form of assessment.
Table 10.7: A schematisation of the different sources for assessment of the study-unit
A number of
Reflection
Tasks related
to different
A once weekly
reflective dairy
Autonomy
Reflective
lectures
P E R S O N A L
Lectures
Readings
A portfolio
related to the
six weeks
practicum
D E V E L O P M E N T
Studying
Experiences
Group work
After teaching practice, during our first lecture which was also a review of their
experiences in a secondary school and a concluding conference, I presented a list
similar to Table 10.8 (arranged in alphabetical order so as not to influence them in
any way), without percentages.
They had some time to discuss the different
component weighting as two small groups, and then individually assigned a
percentage to each component. I gathered all the sheets and issued an average, and
rounded the final percentage for each section. Therefore, the percentage each aspect
carries was the direct result of negotiation; it was more their decision rather than
mine. Table 10.8 gathers the percentages each section carried in the final
assessment.
Table 10.8: The different components with the respective percentage from the final
grade
Component
Percentage
40%

Portfolio

Reflective tasks
25%

Different comments on a number of articles/chapters
15%

Reflective Journal
15%

The literature mini-syllabus (group work)
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5%
Both top and last preferences were further justified by sentences such as the
examples gathered in Table 10.9.
Table 10.9: The most important to the least important items in assessing this studyunit

Portfolio

Reflective Tasks

Comment on an
Article
“The portfolio helped me reflect on myself in
relation to teaching literature.”

Diary

A literature
mini-syllabus
“I found it difficult and did not find it relevant
to my development as a teacher of literature.”
Suzanne
Suzanne
“I found the portfolio really useful, and I
worked hard on it throughout the teaching
practice. It helped me to reflect on different
aspects of teaching literature.”
“I did not give it much importance, since I
found it very difficult to meet other members
of my group.”
Luigi
“I found the group syllabus writing rather
difficult, especially at the very beginning… it
was difficult for me to find time to identify
texts and write appropriate lesson notes.”
Kim
“I was undecided between reflective tasks and
portfolio, both were important, but the fact that
the portfolio was so new, made me swing my
vote, and picked portfolio as my best choice.”
Gianna
Ella
10.3.3 Exemplars, artefacts and the individualised component of the portfolio
While student-teachers had to collate their portfolio, one section proved more
difficult than the rest – the individualised component. Only when I presented them
with two different examples of both hypothetical content list around a theme and
different samples of finished work form the previous year, did they finally start to
envision what was expected of them. Indeed, “students will learn better if we not
only explain what skills and techniques we expect them to master, but also show
them models and examples” (Showalter, 2003: 55). Table 10.10 gathers some
examples of the theme selected for their individualised component.
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Table 10.10: Some examples of the individualised section of their portfolio

Authors from Gozo
 Censorship
Reading culture in my school


Food in literature

Literature and the sea
Individualised content
of the portfolio
Travel literature 
Animals in fairy tales and Hans
Christian Anderson in Malta

Rabbits in literature

It is interesting to see their creativity roam and explore. I supported their choice by sending
emails (one or two per student) to highlight particular texts or different artefacts they could
choose to illustrate their theme. Table 10.11 lists two themes with the different artefacts
that were chosen and developed by two different student-teachers.
Table 10.11: Different artefacts developed around two themes
Theme
Artefacts
I - Rabbits in literature
 Some nursery rhymes with rabbits as their
main character
 A booklet with creative presentation of
the rhymes with rabbits as their main
character
 An ideal textbook for Form 1 pupils: Xi
tridu jagħmel il-Fenek l-Aħmar? [What
Would You Like the Red Rabbit to do?]
by Trevor Żahra
 My translation of Aesop fable: ‘The
rabbit and the tortoise’
 My memories and reflections of rabbits as
pets within my family
 A lesson plan around the rabbit poem
 Rabbit: A Maltese traditional food
 A film review of The World of Peter
Rabbit and Friends
 A comment on one of Beatrix Potter’s
illustrations of rabbits
 Rabbits during Easter time
 A critical appreciation of Titian’s
‘Madonna with the Rabbit’
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II - Food in literature
 A calendar with traditional Maltese
rhymes mentioning food
 A set of ten bookmarks with a poem on
food on each one
 A comment on three famous cartoon
scenes with food, from The Lady and
the Tramp (pasta dish), Snow White
(apple) and Winnie the Pooh (honey)
 Review of the film Chocolat
 Reading Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the
Chocolate Factory and Willy Wonka
and the Chocolate Factory
 Who is Roald Dahl?
 A critical comment on two of Ġorġ
Borġ’s poems named after a food:
‘Ħobża’ [A bread] and ‘Il-qoxra ta’
lewża’ [The skin of an almond]
 A critical comment on Joe Friggieri
mention of food in his tales
 A comment on the lyrics of the song
‘Be our guest’ taken from the film
Beauty and the Beast
 What Maltese people used to eat
throughout the ages
 A short biography of Carmen
Carbonaro [the first woman to
popularise cooking books in Malta]
 A comment on the image of The
Maltese Woman by Carmen Carbonaro
written in the middle of the twentieth
century
10.3.4 Conferences
Sharing portfolio experience normally occurs during ‘conferences,’ “a purposeful
dialogue between two or more people… to help the participants gain insight into the
motives, learning processes, and standards surrounding one’s performance [….] they
provide metacognitive and motivational information ” (Paris and Ayres, 1994: 8485).
Two conferences were conducted during teaching practice.
The first
conference focused more on how to identify the theme for the individualised content
and possible artefacts for both sections of their portfolio. The second focused on
consolidating individualised content and initiating standard setting and rubric
construction. Both meetings were met with different degrees of enthusiasm and
participation.
During both I tried to facilitate discussion by ‘asking genuine
questions’ and ‘listen carefully’ (Shaklee, Barbour, Ambrose and Hansford, 1997:
105). Table 10.12 gathers some comments after the conferences in evaluations.
Table 10.12
Student-teachers’ comments before and after the conferences
Student-teachers’ comments…
Before conferences
After conferences
“To tell the truth, when I heard that I had to
“I must admit that after this conference I feel
come to university for conferences, I did not
relieved. I met my peers and we shared the same
jump with joy! I felt it was an added burden
difficult experiences. After the conference I feel
with all the work related to teaching practice.”
encouraged to carry on!”
Mia
Julie
“Initially, before the conferences, my portfolio
was just an empty word; I did not know enough
about it, even if I read the guidebook.”
Doriella
“I did not want to come to university. I always
felt that was an extra burden on us students
reading for Maltese… no other subject organises
meetings during teaching practice.”
Priscilla
“Initially I had a cacophony of ideas about what
is a portfolio. After the conference my mind is
clear, and I know what I plan to do to develop
my portfolio further.”
Cleo
On our last conference we were a small group of
four. I prefer discussing issues among friends
rather than the whole class. Thanks to the
discussion and examples, I made my mind on the
individualised content of my portfolio.”
Kim
“I shared the same experiences with my peers,
and that was a relief.”
Mary
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10.3.4 Portfolio and rubrics
There is a strong relationship between artefact collection and evaluation, and setting
standards or criteria to evaluate the final product. They should not be viewed as two
separate stages. Selection of artefacts in a portfolio requires active involvement in
the learning process “since they [students] must use higher-level cognitive skills to
analyse and evaluate their own work against set criteria to select the best package to
present for assessment” (Bowie, Joughin, Taylor, Young and Zimitat, 2002: 55).
Therefore it is recommended that issues related to criteria and artefacts are discussed
concomitantly. To that end, I immediately introduced the idea of criteria from the
very first conference, so the student-teachers could immediately think about what
they want to aim toward and achieve. Criteria were developed to cater for two
aspects: their portfolio and their study-unit (Appendix B). The portfolio criteria
were divided or organised according to these themes: the portfolio process; the
quality of presentation of the portfolio; the common contents of their portfolio; the
individualised content of their portfolio; and their reflections. Each criterion was
developed by recommendations through emails by the student-teachers. My role
was to systematise and organise the different criteria under different headings.
Then, we discussed what we understood by each, and through dialogue created a
community of practitioners. In doing so, I was aiming to touch upon what is
considered the most important characteristic: “rubric construction and use must be a
collaborative activity based on the natural activities and processes students
experience” (Taggart and Wood, 1998: 74).
While I was very pleased with my first attempt at rubric construction, I am very
much aware that this rubric is meaningful only to the group that constructed it. With
a new group, the whole process would have to be initiated once more, even if this
time I have a wealth of experience behind my back and an example in my pocket.
For indeed: “Rubric use is ongoing. Evaluations must be made of rubric reliability,
validity, and utility” (Taggart and Wood, 1998: 74).
With student-teachers working hard to develop their portfolio content, and involved
in criteria selection and later on in applying them on their work and that of their
299
peers, I was sure that I was touching upon the salient features of a portfolio system
of assessment. According to Black (1994: 98): “the criteria for the selection of
pieces of work, the criteria for scoring them, the time span over which they are
collected, and the extent to which there is pupil involvement in the selection, or in
assessment” guarantees a portfolio process that may turn even into a portfolio
culture.
10.3.6 Assessing the study-unit: A basic questionnaire
Towards the end, I wanted to get some feedback and general evaluation of the whole
study-unit.
I designed a simple user-friendly questionnaire to be completed
anonymously. In Table 10.13 there are some indicative results. Generally speaking,
it came out clear that the study-unit ‘The literary experience in a secondary school’
demanded much more effort and work than other types of study-units. Probably,
having all the different components included in the final assessment induces the
students to work hard on all of them. Perhaps some sections, like the comments on
articles and/or literature syllabus, need not be assessed, thus creating some breathing
space for the remaining tasks.
Table 10.13: Comparing ‘The literary experience in the secondary school’ to other
study-units
Compared to…
 Other Maltese methodology study-units
 Content study-units
 Methodology in your other subject
 Other study-units within the Faculty of
Education
10.3.6.1
Much
more work
11
More
work
8
The same
work
-
Less
work
-
Total
19
8
10
-
-
19
5
-
19
7
12
7
6
1
-
19
The time factor
Knowing that the quantity of work related to this study-unit was quite substantial, I
asked the student-teachers to identify one factor that most taxed them during the last
academic year. Their answer was nearly unequivocal: the time factor. Nearly all
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student-teachers, with the exception of three, considered their time-management as
the factor that worried them most. The questionnaires included answers to this
open-ended question with sentences like those in Table 10.14.
Table 10.14: Comments on time factor
 “Time! Should I add anything else!?” Cecilia
 “I did not used to find enough time to finish everything on time.” Ella
 “The main challenge was time. There were a lot of bits and pieces of work, and if you did not
mange well your time, you ended up having a mountain of work waiting for you at the end.”
Suzanne
 “The amount of work required for this study-unit was overwhelming, and the time was rather
limited.” Allison
 “The main challenge was to find time, to manage to do all the work at a satisfactory level.”
Deborah
 “The most difficult aspect was finding time to do everything. I found it rather hard to correct
other people’s portfolios.” Kim
 “The lack of time, especially towards the end when everything seemed to conflict with other
study-units’ work.” Mia
Interestingly enough, they did not question the amount of work they had. Although
we negotiated elements of it, especially deadlines, no one ever complained about its
volume. Furthermore, three student-teachers identified personal problems, lack of
creativity during teaching practice and portfolio related issues, respectively, as the
most worrying factors or challenges that they had to overcome during this academic
year.
10.3.6.2
Some recommendations
Student-teachers were asked to recommend from a list what activities they would
have liked to have more or a threat since they did not have sufficient experience
during the academic year. The following were the most frequently selected items:
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Table 10.15: Specific recommendations by student-teachers for the improvement of
this study-unit
Number of student-teachers
18 student-teachers
14 student-teachers
10 student-teachers
6 student-teachers
4 student- teachers
1 student-teacher
Recommendation
 Increase in the value of the study-unit
 Possibly teachers from the field come to university to share their
experiences
 More individual presentations
 More small group tutorials
 More meetings with authors
 More group work
 More time for discussions
 Pilot a literature lesson prior to teaching practice
 More film viewing similar to Dead Poets Society
 Micro-teaching in schools
10.3.7 Small steps in the ‘right’ direction
Notwithstanding certain improvements that students teachers would have liked to
see, their feedback of the study-unit was very positive indeed. In a way it assesses
the perceived achievements by the student-teachers during the last eight months.
10.3.7.1
Modelling at university
Student-teachers perceived that what they were experimenting with was the way
they should teach and assess in class. Although I never put it in those terms to them,
the message was clear. Much of my lecturing was geared towards providing a
secure environment where the prospective teachers could experience first-hand a
variety of reader-response methods. Since this aspect was lacking in their education
(vide Chapter 9) I considered one of my aims not just to lecture about readerresponse and constructivist classrooms, but rather, more effectively than that, create
one within the limits of a university setting.
“I find there is a strong relationship between what was covered at
university and what I experienced in secondary school. The lecturer
did in practice what we, in turn, should be doing with our students in
classrooms.”
(Kim, Final Evaluation Questionnaire)
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10.3.7.2
The theory-practice link or divide
This study-unit, with its limits, has been a living example of linking theory to
practice, and vice-versa.
It had always been my contention that a theory-free
practice is an oxymoron. Practice is an embodiment of a particular theory, even if
the practitioners themselves are not aware of it.
At the other extreme of the
spectrum, theory is a reflection of practice and informs future deliberate actions
when one becomes aware of it. It must be stressed that student teachers found it
difficult to eradicate the theory-practice divide.
“I can honestly say that my experience in a secondary school
classroom helped a lot to understand how I can put into practice what I
heard at university.”
(Ella, Final Evaluation Questionnaire)
“What was covered at university came in very useful when I entered in
a secondary classroom. However, I learnt other things on site, together
with my students.”
(Cecilia, Final Evaluation Questionnaire)
10.3.7.3
Students in secondary school
One of the aims of entering a teacher-training course, and more specifically this
study-unit is to get an idea of the different methods and resources most consonant to
contemporary teaching of literature. Therefore, I could understand that part of the
success of this study-unit rested in the hands of the audience of these studentteachers, that is the reception by pupils in secondary schools of these innovative or
progressive ideas. I was pleased to read: “The majority of pupils I used to teach did
enjoy the literature lessons, since they had opportunity to think, discuss and be
creative” (Suzanne, Final Evaluation Questionnaire).
Certain issues, while
discussed at length at university, seem not to have faded away, but rather become
more pressing in their urgency… “However, some students never seem to find
relevance in such type of lessons, saying that they would not lead them to passing
the examination as currently set” (Suzanne, Final Evaluation Questionnaire).
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10.3.7.4
Personal improvement
One aspect I really worked hard at was to have a safe and supportive and, at the
same time, challenging environment conducive to personal improvement and
enrichment. Student-teachers need to approach a class with confidence inspired by
competence.
“I used to feel very confident that my point of view would be given
due attention by nearly everyone in classroom.”
(Ella, Final Evaluation Questionnaire)
“I found this study-unit really useful. I had all the time to express my
thoughts and discuss issues with my peers. During other lectures I
hardly move, let alone speak my mind. During this study-unit it was
as if I could not stop talking about my past, my experiences in
different classrooms with different pupils. It was very intensive, with
a lot of different tasks to finish and a barrage of deadlines. However, I
came to know better my peers, and my lecturer.”
(Kim, Final Evaluation Questionnaire)
One way of encouraging self-expression and self-discovery, was by opening a 24/7
channel of communication with my student-teachers, through emails. This meant
that at a convenient time for the student-teacher, s/he could write and receive a reply
within the next day. It was a sort of tacit agreement that I would reply within
twenty-four hours.
“Email use was highly effective and very useful. One cannot keep a
free flow channel of communication with every lecturer, this is a much
welcomed exception!”
(Ella, Final Evaluation Questionnaire).
“When we did not meet for lectures or tutorials, emails were a vital
life-link with my lecturer. We could communicate with him any time
of the day.”
(Allison, Final Evaluation Questionnaire).
10.3.7.5
Becoming a reflective practitioner
One of the aims of the study-unit was to develop a reflective attitude among studentteachers. Throughout the study-unit I envisaged a reflective attitude towards the
profession of teachers of literature. Reflection is a quality, skill and value very
304
much sought after in initial teacher education courses (vide Chapter 4). From the
start, student-teachers recognised that reflective writing was going to be an integral
part of this study-unit.
I even dedicated a mini-lecture on writing skills and
distributing material about reflective writing. A very simple question asked all
student-teachers to quantify their ability at reflection and reflective writing at the
start of the study-unit, and towards the end of the study-unit. Taking the second
group of student-teachers as an example, their response, shown in Table 10.16, was
staggering.
All student-teachers perceived an improvement in their reflective
writing skills. With the exception of one student-teacher, the majority of studentteachers placed their initial attempts at the start at five or even below.
This
perceived improvement ranged from two up to five, a wide bracket. All gained from
this experience.
Table 10.16: The perceived improvement in reflective writing skills
Start of study-unit
End of study-unit
Perceived Improvement
7
5
5
5
5
4
4
4
3
2










9
2
9
4
9
4
9
4
7
2
7
3
7
3
6
2
8
5
5
3
This perceived improvement was elaborated further in their comments to this
answer, from simple statements like “Towards the end I found it easier to reflect”
(Ella, Final Evaluation Questionnaire) to more elaborate statements:
“At the beginning I used to fall in the trap of writing superficially
about many things at once. Now I realise that I would be more
effective in my writing if I carefully select one incident and elaborate
on it from different points of view.”
(Suzanne, Final Evaluation Questionnaire)
“I still have a long way to go to improve my reflective writing skills.
However, during the last few months I became more aware of what
reflective writing entails, and above all what role it should play in
every teacher’s life.”
(Cecilia, Final Evaluation Questionnaire)
Committing free wandering thoughts to writing, structures one’s thoughts…
“Before this study-unit I used to think about things, but I rarely wrote
anything down. Then, I seldom systematised my thoughts and I used
to go around in circles rather than reflect. Now that I got used to
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writing reflectively – all those lesson evaluations, portfolio, reflective
diary and those tasks! – I can make sense out of my own thinking.”
(Deborah, Final Evaluation Questionnaire)
Reflection is a journey, with no end ever in sight. One cannot say that one has
mastered this skill, but rather that one is still getting good at it…
“Reflection isn’t easy! Even though I have improved my writing, I
still have to practice more; there always seems to be room for
improvement.”
(Kim, Final Evaluation Questionnaire)
“I have come to believe that reflection has an important role in my
development as a reflective teacher. I am not keeping this skill to
myself. Actually I am encouraging my students to reflect too. I try to
encourage them to reflect on their emotions during literature lessons.
And after four weeks of teaching practice I encouraged them to reflect
on what they have learnt, what they liked and disliked. It was a new
experience for them. This wasn’t without difficulties… pupils are not
that used to reflect. Initially they would describe what we did together,
but later and with special prompting from my side, they became more
specific.”
(Mia, Portfolio – Final Evaluation)
10.4
End note
This chapter focused on the two most emotionally charged experiences throughout
the study-unit: teaching practice and the assessment of this study-unit. Studentteachers have evidenced a predisposition to experiment with a reader-response
approach to teaching literature, even if the school context was not always
supportive. Their experiences, difficult as they might have seemed, were very
rewarding. On the other hand, assessment of this study-unit was a much more
intensive experience, with preparation being initiated months in advance. Studentteachers were asked to participate in the construction of rubrics that facilitated peerand self-assessment of most of the work submitted for final grading. Although this
was their first such experience, on the whole they seem to have participated fully in
the process, thus feeling that they owned the assessment process and not considering
assessment as being done to them. This experience should be invaluable when they,
as teachers, implement similar methods with their own pupils.
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CHAPTER 11
Closure, traits, recommendations and coda
11.1 The idea of closure
Traditionally, research aims towards a set of conclusions which are the result of the
methodical analysis according to a process of data gathering to that end. However,
within a postmodern frame of mind, this idea of permanent conclusions is greatly
debated and the idea of closure, is preferred instead. “Although all our stories will
provide some kind of closure, some anchoring of meaning, this is always bound to
be temporary” (Usher and Edwards, 1994: 147). Within this context, by closure one
might understand temporary bracketing of past events, in order to proceed, knowing
that “[w]e are after all always ‘in’ closure” (Usher and Edwards, 1994: 147). The
past is never resolved and most probably the future will be interpreted in the light of
those events that one wants to keep at bay. Indeed, Jürgen Habermas’ (1994: 55-72)
words are pertinent: “The past as future.” The past always haunts the present and
the future, in a spectral way (Derrida, 2006).
The idea of closure with a preference over termination, finishing and completion,
and similar words denoting a permanent end to an activity, is relevant in this
context. Closure denotes the never ending process of the relationship that was
instated months earlier. At the same time, closure encapsulates the suspension of
things as they are, with the awareness that things will carry on, but in a different
form. I agree with Robin Usher and Richard Edwards (1994: 30) that “experience
and subjectivity are always out of control and therefore to impose a closure is to
deny the openness of the meaning of experience and the continual formation and reformation of subjectivity.”
Closure can be achieved by an insight, very similar to the ‘aha moment’ or ‘haiku
moment’ when writing haiku (Giroux, 1974/1999: 45-74; Yasuda, 1957: 30-33),
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with that exhilarating feeling of ‘now I got it!’ Alternatively it may be achieved
with a deliberate decision that closes off other possibilities in full awareness that the
full all embracing understanding and explanations of an event can be aimed and
desired, but never actually be achieved or finely resolved, very much akin to a
psychological ‘analysis’ (Lacan, 2006).
The evidence from student-teachers’ reflections and my own deliberations in my
research diary and in my writing, can be considered as fragments or partialities of a
much bigger, elusive phenomenon or lived experience, that can never be ‘totally’
described or analysed (Moustakas, 1994). My writing positions myself and certain
discourses to the foreground, while other themes and motives are set at the
background or not considered at all. Writing, including, research writing, is always
selective and at the same time “it lets us see that which shines through, that which
tends to hide itself” (van Manen, 1997: 130), for indeed phenomenological writing
“…speaks through silence: it means more than it explicitly says” (vanManen, 1997:
131). Therefore, rereading the previous chapters, I can safely attempt at drawing a
list of what best can be called traits, rather than conclusions in the traditional sense
of the word, that, as a self-study and induction into a reflective mode of my studentteachers, will carry on beyond the temporal boundaries of this study.
11.2 Some traits of my research
I propose to divide the traits that emerge from my research in two: those that refer to
the philosophical understanding gained through this research, and another category
based on insights drawn from my research as a lived experience and as a writing up
of that experience. These traits directly relate to my main research question and
supporting or subsidiary questions (vide Table 1.1 and 1.2).
11.2.1 Philosophical traits
Researched experience is a complex non-linear experience, where the researcher
rather than scrupulously adhering to one method, embraces a bricoleur stance to
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greatly facilitate his/her task (vide Table 1.2 Question B; Chapter 6). It is with a
broad knowledge of the different methods and techniques that are available to the
qualitative researcher that one can select what best fits one’s needs at the time. This
open and flexible approach greatly facilitates the data collection process and can
yield various insights about the whole research project in a more authentic way. It is
the search that dictates the methods and techniques, bearing clearly in mind the
context and situations.
Considering the rather fragmentary nature of initial teacher training, the writing
process too had to change to reflect this, as was suggested in supporting question F
(Table 1.2).
Thus, a multi-genre approach (vide Chapter 2) was adopted, not
without proper attention to the canonical expository and analytical genre. My mode
of writing here reflects a bricolage stance (vide Intermezzo I and II), aware of a
myriad of possibilities I consider the most fitting genre for the matter in hand. It is
not systematic at the very start, but lends itself to representing details of what had
happened coupled with subsequent insights and deliberations. Thus my writing
understood as a bricolage experience also reflects a dialogic experience of reality
and how I made (and still make) sense out of it. In hindsight I consider this journey
of self-discovery as writer and researcher as an instructive experience.
As much as possible, even if very difficult because it goes against my whole
upbringing, I tried to avoid bipolar logic.
Instead, following Rosenblatt’s
(1978/1994) moderate approach to literary theory and events, I tried to keep away
from extremes, and instead find my own version of things. Further, extremes were
not considered opposites in a Hegalian sense of the word, as if they were a thesis
and antithesis, with a synthesis of the two positions as the final outcome. Things, to
me, are a little bit more complex than that. I wait, ponder, try to find and select
what I consider as best from the two or more initial positions, construct my own
position, that need not be a synthesis, even if the building blocks are directly
extrapolated from the initial positions. To use a metaphor from Derrida (2006: 5),
my conception of things develops into something like a spectre…
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It becomes, rather, some ‘thing’ that remains difficult to name: neither
soul nor body, and both one and the other. [….] It is something that
one does not know, precisely, and one does not know if precisely it is,
if it exists, if it responds to a name and corresponds to an essence.
[….] Here is—or rather there is, over there, an unnameable or almost
unnameable thing: something, between something and someone,
anyone or anything, some thing, ‘this thing,’ but this thing and not any
other…
11.2.2 Traits from the research project
Drawing on a number of personal resources a lecture room, with great effort by the
lecturer but also with the complicity of the student-teachers, is turned into a
constructivist classroom or a response-based classroom (vide Chapter 3) modelling
what could be a relationship between the parties according to what is envisioned to
be instated when student-teachers go in secondary classroom with their pupils (vide
Chapter 10). This means that the mode of teaching/lecturing can be transformed to
embrace ideas from an assessment for learning model (vide Chapter 5). This
transformation was inspired by more than one of my subsidiary research questions
(vide Table 1.1 Questions D and E; Table 1.2 Questions C and G).
Student-teachers arrive at a study-unit with preconceived ideas, beliefs, impressions
and prejudices (vide Chapter 9). These have to be scrutinised within a philosophical
framework that privileges reflection as a core value (vide Table 1.1 Question D;
Table 1.2 Questions B and C). Such beliefs find their meaning in past events, in the
individual’s personal history. Without any doubt, these past experiences need to be
reflected upon at length. The best attempt at a critical analysis can be achieved
during an open discussion with peers. Raising to the level of consciousness the
possible meaning or interpretations of single critical incidents can be therapeutic and
enriching.
Among the student-teachers’ experiences that left an indelible mark on their identity
as prospective teacher one finds their first encounter with the literate world. Within
the nuclear family, the mother role is really strong, and then when one considers the
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extended family, the grandparents’ role takes precedence.
Within a bilingual
context like Malta, issues of English and Maltese with their unequal perceived
importance and the distribution and visibility of print culture impinge.
The student-teachers’ relationship with their subject is complex and cannot be
reduced to simple findings or straightforward answer to one of my research
questions (Table 1.2 Question D). Suffice to say that the dynamics of subject
identity are mediated through their subject knowledge.
What they learnt at
secondary school and at higher education is the beginning limit. From my research,
while some student-teachers find pleasure in reading on their own, rarely does this
experience impact decisions on canon and pedagogical considerations (vide Chapter
9). Their limits in this area are quite evident, favouring a perpetuation of the status
quo rather than experimenting with new texts and being themselves agents of
change. Outside the pedagogical canon, texts need a seal of approval from an
outside body and student-teachers are often not initially willing to risk anything.
They need more prompting when presenting simulations and a more experimental
oriented environment to break off the shackles of their own learning experience.
Bridging the gap between the official content knowledge and reading outside that
canon is still to be resolved.
Images and metaphors can be liberating but also constrictive. With reference to
research question E (Table 1.2), from the analysis of their images of a literature
teacher comes a vision of hope, since they critically look at a traditional way of
teaching literature, they clearly understand the limitations inherent in the traditional
way, and envision an image of a teacher that is more intellectually dynamic and
stimulating, pedagogically competent and resourceful (vide Chapter 9).
Their
reasons for becoming teachers within a long four-year course, reaches its aim if they
themselves change over time to cope with the pressing needs of present day
classrooms but also if they construct and implement positive pedagogical ideals.
Most of the time, knowledge at university is useful so long as it works in the
classroom. I believe that a reader-response approach to literature teaching is a
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powerful solution to present day malaise with the traditional mode of teaching the
subject. Student-teachers needed to familiarise themselves with basic principles and
practices of reader-response, but they still had to challenge their convictions.
Indeed, two of my research questions (Table 1.2 Questions B and F) focused
specifically on teaching practice, the time where they had to implement a new vision
for teaching literature (vide Chapter 10). Their experiences are not all the same.
Resistance seems to be a common theme, be it from the school administration, the
co-operating teacher, pupils and examination culture. My research demonstrates
that school culture does not wash away university teaching. Within this context,
schools provide an interpretive critical lens to university teaching, which can be
self-indulgent, esoteric, out-moded, research-based and possibly decontextualised.
It grounds with reality a discourse that can be remote from schools’ and teachers’
needs, while holding out the possibility of change and innovation in schools.
As with schools, examinations may filter most of the ideas that make it to the
classroom. At university the mode of assessment greatly impinges on the quality of
the learning experience. While initially I was a bit hesitant, during my second cycle,
I was all in favour of an assessment for learning paradigm. This was reflected in
one of my personal research questions (Table 1.1 Question E) and another research
question related to my student-teachers (Table 1.2 Question G).
That meant
personal change of the way I planned and designed the study-unit, a rethinking that
brought greater faith in student-teachers, along with a desire to experiment and be
innovative (vide Chapter 8). On the other hand, a number of reflective tasks,
article/chapter summaries, a portfolio and a reflective diary were used as primary
sources when assessing the quality of learning that took place during the study-unit,
in relation to two subsidiary research questions (Table 1.1 Questions D and E). I
had to face student-teachers’ resistance, especially when I had to convince them to
assess each other’s work (peer-assessment) and their own work (self-assessment),
especially from those who believed that assessment was something done to them by
the lecturer, rather than appropriating for themselves according to negotiated criteria
and rubrics. This was very much in line with another supporting question I had set
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for my research (Table 1.2 Question G). Finally, the experience was rewarding and
worth input of all involved.
Notwithstanding the traits that have emerged, I don’t conclude that this is ‘the
interpretation’ of what happened during those long eight months. Other points of
view or discourses can explain other features, or highlight aspects that I did not
consider important. It is a personal critical retelling of a rather complex dynamic
experience that certainly cannot be resolved or brought to a conclusion by the end of
a thesis.
Indeed, my relationship with the participating nineteen teachers has
progressed during the fourth year of their course and with some deepened further
when they selected me as their thesis supervisor. “In a real sense, teaching never
ends, and the conclusion of the semester does not conclude the teacher-student
relationship or the implicit contract” (Showalter, 2003: 142). I must admit that
when the third year came to an end, I felt rather drained and positive that I tried my
best to provide them with something new and possibly unforgettable.
Rather
melancholic in tone, I admit that “Perhaps it is always ourselves we mourn for in the
end of any season…” (Showalter, 2003: 101). I saw them become teachers of
literature which makes me, like any teacher trainer, proud.
11.3
Some recommendations
Researching this subject for years, I have identified a number of recommendations
that I believe would greatly improve the experience of student-teachers in their
transition to becoming teachers of literature.
Following the great importance of literary theory, especially reader-response forms
of criticism, having in the reorienting process a study-unit that explains in detail the
various positions, major authors and texts’ insights along the lines of Chapter 3,
greatly helps the understanding of the principles, practices, methods and techniques
involved in the pedagogy of literature at secondary level.
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Since reflection plays an important part in the analysis of past beliefs and present
thinking, it is strongly recommended that student-teachers be provided with training
in this special writing skill, as early on as possible in their teacher-training course.
This would facilitate their lives in a number of study-units, including one on
teaching literature.
While it is encouraging to notice that my study-unit capitalised on insights from
assessment for learning, it is rather alarming to witness that this was their only
opportunity to experience such a mode of assessment throughout their entire life in
formal and higher education. Aware of teachers’ need to experience first-hand
different forms of assessment practices, I recommend that small projects and
initiatives commence at secondary level, initiatives that would pilot assessment for
learning experiences. This would increase their confidence, self-esteem and would
be replicated once they finish teacher-training course.
Technology, while I used it sparingly throughout my study-unit, has proven to be a
vital link with my student-teachers. They could communicate with their lecturer
about their preoccupations, and receive a number of solutions or possible
interpretations that would help them see the bigger picture, or help them reflect in a
way they previously did not think about. While I used emailing as the way to
communicate, I propose a platform like Moodle where student-teachers can
contribute to a discussion. Ethical issues should be addressed in advance before
lecturers and student-teachers embark on this open dialogue.
Aware of how critical teaching practice can be to student-teachers and after
experiencing the success the organisation of support groups during teaching practice
focusing on teaching of literature and portfolio had, I would suggest that this
personal initiative be institutionalised to become an essential part of the block
teaching practice. Probably, I would advise that the facilitator would not be one of
their examiners/tutors, so as to avoid a role conflict.
Furthermore, instead of
focusing on teaching literature and portfolios, I would be more inclusive, and tackle
a variety of issues, especially classroom management and discipline concerns, which
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from my research seem the very basic existential need of the student-teachers during
the first few weeks.
Student-teachers know that lecturers and examiners have a wealth of experience and
knowledge, but at the same time are a bit sceptical of their awareness of life in
schools.
I suggest that co-operating teachers are assigned a number of
responsibilities, after undergoing some training sessions to successfully complete
their crucial mentoring role.
Given the duration of my research, and the conviction that becoming a teacher is a
long process that spills over the eight months of training as reported in my research,
or four year course, it would be interesting to see what insights can be attained if
one adopts a longitudinal study, from initial teacher training to a career and tenure
spread over years. While this may be desirable, it has never been attempted maybe
due to a number of factors such as, lack of resources, funding, patience to get
something published, perseverance of the persons involved in the initial research,
the changing personal circumstances of the researchers and the participants.
However, with financial resources from the different EU projects, I do not foresee
any reason why this research project should not be carried out.
11.4
The end as a partial beginning
Initially, I proposed to answer the following question: How can the initial training
of Maltese literature teachers benefit from a reader-response approach? This
guiding question, as well as the subsidiary questions (Tables 1.1 and 1.2), have been
tackled at length in Part III of my research. After considering the wide range of
evidence presented based on personal and student-teachers’ generated data, the indepth critical analysis that framed each issue and partial conclusions for each
strand, and if I take into account the different closures I hinted at in the preceding
sections, I believe to have made strong the case in the affirmative. The journey was
not without its problems (vide Chapter 7) and the research has it own set of
limitations (vide Chapter 11). However, at the end I find that personally and each
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individual student-teacher has struggled to appropriate a reader-response approach
to teaching, be it at University or at a secondary school. From time to time I
wonder if the same experience and effect could be achieved without readerresponse; probably not, or else a different narrative would emerge contradicting or
confirming whole passages. Without any doubt, we all have improved ourselves in
the spirit of reader-response approaches to reading and teaching literature. My
transformative journey and that of my nineteen student-teachers’ inexorably goes
on… but that is another exciting story to tell some other day.
11.5
Coda
The personal journey as novice lecturer and the individual student-teachers’
trajectories that I documented, did not end when the student-teachers finished their
course. My journey as a not so novice lecturer carried on the following year with
another group of student-teachers who were eager to learn and understand what it
takes to become teachers of literature. In a sense, perpetually teaching new studentteachers “gives the illusion of a fountain of youth” (Showalter, 2003: 142). The
recurring story is a sweet déjà vu or a facet of the Nietzschian eternal return. I am
very much aware that: “Developing a coherent teaching self is a life-long process”
(Showalter, 2003: 143). My self as a lecturer and researcher, and my studentteachers’ self, is in a never ending process of ‘becoming’ (vide Intermezzo II). The
student-teachers learn from their lecturer, as much as the lecturer learns from their
experience; it is a to-and-fro relationship, with roles changing.
While the
institutional regulations inevitably would indicate a date of the termination of this
relationship, I am convinced that actually this rapport moves way beyond the time
spent at university…
I.
Getting to know my student-teachers, and they getting to know me, is a rewarding
experience of any teaching worthy of the name. Although student-teachers finish
university, they carry on living with in some ways. On my biannual school visits it
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is very likely that I hear a recognisable voice at the end of the corridor calling,
“Hawn Sir…” [Hello Sir… / How are you, Sir?] Can there be sweeter words for
someone who as a teacher has formed tomorrow’s teachers?
II.
Emails, as indicated, have proved to be an essential channel of communication. It is
a way of changing with times, difficult at the start, but rewarding, very rewarding, at
the end…
Subject: Thank you
From: Anne
Date: 08/09/2005 18:32
To: Terence Portelli
Terence,
Last week I sent a CV to St Colin’s College. Last Monday they contacted me for
an interview on the following day, which I attended. Wednesday they informed
me that they chose me as a teacher of Maltese, Full-time. The post was
advertised as a part-time job, but when they saw how much I worked, my
teaching practice file, my literature portfolio, the different resources I prepared,
the student and class profiles, the detailed lesson evaluation, they decided to
employ me as a full-timer.
Although it was all my work, I would like to thank you from my heart because it
was with your dedication and hard work that I presented such good quality
highly finished material, for you always strove to improve our abilities to the
maximum, to present near perfect work, without losing faith in my capabilities.
Thank you once again for everything you did,
Anne
III.
Zen practitioners find solace in stories that shed light on a reality, that while being
possibly contradictory, store a gem of truth or insight that is powerful and
meaningful. The following, by Japanese Zen Master Dōgen (1971: 105) who lived
in the thirteenth century, I feel, is really inspiring…
In the middle of the sea, there is a place where great waves rise
known as the Dragon Gate. If a fish can pass this place, it turns into
a dragon. This is why it is called Dragon Gate. Yet it seems to me
that the waves are no higher than those in other places, and the water
must be just as salty as anywhere else. Strangely enough, though,
any fish that passes there becomes a dragon without fail. Its scales
do not change; its body remains the same; yet suddenly it becomes a
dragon.
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APPENDIX A
A Compendium of Reflective Tasks
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1
What would you like? A self-addressed letter
The B.Ed. (Hons.) course is highly structured. One rarely has the opportunity to
say what one wants from a particular study-unit before its commencement; it is
more likely that one would air out a disappointing comment at the end, usually at
the lecturer’s back.
Following the discussion during the first lecture, you have expressed your views
on what you feel is important to learn/read during the study-unit ‘The Literary
Experience in the Secondary School’. You are now asked to think and write about
the following two questions:
 What you would like to learn/read during this study-unit; and
 How would you imagine yourself to be after finishing this study-unit.
To facilitate your answer, imagine to be writing a self-addressed letter that will
be posted back to you in eight months’ time, towards the end of this study-unit.
Who knows what will be your reaction when you read what you wrote to yourself?
You will be the sole reader of the letter.
You may feel free to share parts of your letter with peers and lecturer, once the study-unit ends.
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2
Your reading history I
Early memories
Even without knowing, your past has a deep impact on the way you construct your
future. Reviewing your education can illuminate present beliefs and assumptions
that will be better explored and at times challenged during this study-unit.
Therefore, think about your past by going through the following questions that
are intended as an aid to your memory and subsequent reflections.
Then, write what strikes you most. You can reproduce any artefact(s) you
consider particularly meaningful in your growth process.
First memories
1.
What are your earliest memories related to reading?
2.
When you were still young, what did your parents, relatives, grandparents read to
you?
3.
A bedtime story you particularly remember.
4.
Did you like being read to?
5.
The first book you remember reading.
6.
What types of books did you like best when you were still very young?
7.
A particular character you read about when still young, and still remember with joy.
8.
A particular picture you saw in a book when still young, and still remember.
9.
When still young, who was the person who you always saw reading?
Learning to read
10. Did you have a particular teacher who helped you come close to the reading
world?
11. What do you remember most of the reading lessons you had at primary school?
12. What do you remember most of the reading lessons you had at secondary school?
13. Did you have a library at home? Did you make use of any of the available books?
14. What was the first book you bought with your own pocket-money?
15. Do you remember anything from your first visit to a bookshop?
16. Do you remember anything from your first visit to a library?
17. Any memories, sensations and emotions you carry from entering a big library?
18. Did you ever read a book to someone younger than you?
19. Is there a particular book you cherish?
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3
Your reading history II
Your literary preferences
Years of formal education developed in you a sense of literary taste, which to a
certain extent is peculiar to you.
How you were taught literature, who taught you particular texts, the layout of a
book you read, an activity you made around a literary text, an unforgettable
moment when you read something, and the like… all had an impact on your
literary tastes.
However, it was not the formal education alone that had an impact on your
literary tastes. Your initiative to explore new texts embarked you on a journey far
away from the four walls of your classroom. For some, this early excursion has
developed into an irresistible passion for reading.
Your life history has had an impact on the literary preferences in such a way that
you do not possibly acknowledge.
The best…
1.
Your very own ‘Author Top 10’.
2.
The best five poems.
3.
The most effective sentence you ever read.
4.
The most powerful verse.
5.
The most enticing play you have ever watched.
The book you…
6.
The book you suggest to someone you love.
7.
The book you suggest to someone you do not particularly like.
8.
The book you could never finish.
9.
The book you suggest to a politician or a religious figure.
10. The book you would like to take with you to a desert island.
11. The book you feel that left the strongest impact on your life.
If…
12. If all the books were to be destroyed, which one would you save?
13. If you were a member on a censorship committee, which type of writing would
you ban?
14. If you heard someone say, “The world without books would be a better place!”
…what would your reaction be?
15. If you had to write a book, what subject and style would you choose? Why?
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4
Your reading history III
What type of reader are you?
Did you ever think that there are different types of readers? And that the same
reader can read differently in different situations?
The aim of this task is to help you better understand the type of reader you have
become and to gain greater awareness of the different ways you read in particular
settings and situations.
Furthermore, you will better understand how you look at yourself as a reader that
very soon will teach others how to read literature.
1.
From a score of one to ten, how much do you like to read? Explain your choice.
2.
Two adjectives that best describe you as reader.
3.
Which genre do you prefer to read: poetry, narrative or drama?
4.
Do you prefer to read in Maltese, in English, or any other language? Why do you
prefer one from the other?
5.
The place you choose to read for pleasure and to study.
6.
If you were on a bus, do you prefer to read or simply to gaze? Why?
7.
Do you read at the seaside?
8.
If you were to review exclusively last summer, what type of writing (novels,
newspapers etc.) did you read most? Do you notice any difference with the winter
period? Why?
9.
Did you ever read a book after you watched its film? What was your reaction?
10.
Did you ever watch a film after you’ve read the book? What were your comments?
11.
Were you ever stimulated to read a book / a poem / a play after having read a
critical comment on it?
12.
A book you enjoy re-reading.
13.
A book you bought just because you liked the cover.
14.
Did you ever regret having read something that in hindsight you feel you should
never have read?
15.
When you open a book, from where do you start reading?
16.
When you are reading, what do you notice most?
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5
Reasons for teaching literature at secondary
school
Behind every subject there are a number of reasons for its presence on the curriculum for
students in the secondary school. From time to time these reasons change to better
reflect the new subject identity within an ever evolving knowledge struggle that
legitimises certain knowledge and delegitimises other areas. From the following list,
select your preferred reasons for teaching literature within a first language syllabus?
Maltese literature is taught at secondary school because…
Agree Disagree





1.
students find the activity enjoyable.
2.
it stimulates the students’ imagination and fosters their creativity.
3.
it develops the students’ critical and analytic skills.
4.
it helps and facilitates the development of reading skills.
5.
it refines the students’ literary taste.
6.
students will be able to comprehend the complexity and intricate use of
language.

7.
teachers love reading.
8.
literary terms and devices are best taught in context.
9.
it forms part of the national identity/heritage of the Maltese.



10.
although it is written in Maltese, it shares the same wealth of universal
themes that touch the spirit of each and every one.

11.
otherwise students reading Maltese at university will not find a job.
12.
it improves vocabulary.
13.
great or classical authors continue to be revered in the future.
14.
it leads to a better understanding of the authors’ biography.
15.
articulating one’s response to a literary text is an important task.





16.
students do not read at home and therefore the school has to compensate
for this

17.
if it was not part of the syllabus no one would read literature in Maltese.
18.
it nurtures a more sensitive person.
19.
teachers will not have anything else to teach three/four lessons per week.
20.
it aids the development of a morally sound person.




21.
some day someone identified literature as a subject and there’s no way
things are going to change in language teaching syllabi.

22.
literary critics think it is valuable.

23.
it is an integral part of the language exam especially the secondary
education certificate.

24.
literature acts as a good model to creative writing.

25.
it extends the experiences of the readers, for example if you never went to
Brazil you can read an account of that place.

26.
it can be used in comparative studies with literature written in other
languages.

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6
A description of a traditional literature lesson
The description between traditional education and progressive education made by John Dewey in
his Experience and Education (1938) might be relevant where it came to describe educational
movements in general, and more specifically when writing and discussing about teaching
literature.
At a time when teacher training was not possible, novices used to observe what worked in others,
and synthesised what can be called the traditional method of teaching literature. One used to go
back on the way he or she was taught, without proper critical evaluation of one’s provenance.
After years of experience, teachers feel secure about the merits of their way of teaching, and
proud that little if anything has changed.
On the other hand, novice student-teachers ascribe a different meaning to their own education.
Indeed they voice their concern about certain practices, and voice a real desire to move away
from the traditional way of teaching literature.
“Today I acknowledge the pressing need to read more books and articles in order to improve
my teaching methods of teaching literature, so that I don’t teach in the traditional fashion”
“The pupils used to adore me. Probably since I am very young, or possible because I use new
methods that their teacher never dreams of using, because her practice is solely based on the
traditional way of teaching.”
Like last year’s two novice student-teachers, you are still at the very beginning of your training.
What is your opinion on the traditional method of teaching literature? Can you describe a
traditional lesson in detail? The following questions are aimed to help you start reflecting…
1. Do you
think that the
traditional
method really
exists? If, yes,
what are its
merits?
4. List the
basic steps
of a typical
traditional
literature
lesson.
7. What are the
short- and longterm effects on
the students of
being taught
literature in a
traditional way?
2. What is the
teacher’s role in the
traditional literature
lesson?
3. Between the teacher, the student,
the author and the text, who is
considered the most important in the
traditional literature lesson?
5. Who do you think are the
great defenders of the traditional
way of teaching literature at
secondary school?
8. What is the role of
examinations within
the traditional
paradigm of
teaching literature?
10. Can you describe the
type of student that fits best
with the traditional way of
teaching literature?
324
6. How you use to feel
during a literature lesson
based on the traditional
method?
9. Who are the people that are
gaining more from the
traditional way of teaching
literature?
11. Look-up in a dictionary of
literary terms, ‘New Criticism’.
Can you notice any similarities
with the principles of this
method and the teaching style
within the traditional paradigm
of teaching literature?
7
My first literature lesson
Nothing seems as beautiful as the first love. The same might apply to other
experiences in one’s life that although repeated provide the same initial sensation.
Last year, with all probability, you did your first literature lesson during the
Wednesday sessions. Take a look at what you did when still without the pedagogical
and experiential know-how that you have today.
Then, use the questions/ideas in the three columns to describe, rekindle memories,
and learn from your first lesson.
Before the lesson
During the lesson
1. An adjective to
8. An adjective to
2. How would you
9. An incident that
describe how you felt
before the lesson.
describe the school’s
context where you
delivered your first
ever literature lesson?
3. How would you
describe the classroom
context where you
delivered this lesson?
4. What was your
describe how you felt
during the lesson.
happened during the
lesson for which you
did not plan well
enough.
10. During this lesson,
what did you do to
give individual
attention to students
with different learning
styles?
greatest preoccupation
before you delivered
11. What was the
the lesson?
students’ reaction
during the lesson?
5. How difficult or easy
was it to plan this
12. How did you read the
lesson?
literary text?
6. How did you choose
the literary text for this
lesson?
7. Did you consult any
book/website/person
when you were
planning this lesson?
13. Did you use any
particular resources
during the lesson?
What was their effect
in the classroom?
14. What do you think the
students learned by
the end of this lesson?
325
After the lesson
15. An adjective to
describe how you felt
once the lesson came
to an end.
16. From one to ten, what
was your grade of
satisfaction after the
lesson? Explain.
17. Did the students
comment after the
lesson?
18. Since nearly over six
months have passed
from that experience,
what do you
remember most?
19. If you had to deliver
the same lesson again,
what would you keep
unchanged and what
would you vary?
Explain why.
20. If the tutor was in the
classroom when you
delivered this lesson,
what do you think
would have been
his/her reactions?
8
Designing a literature syllabus
Even if designing a literature syllabus may seem far away from your immediate
needs, this specific competence is a must in your professional development. More
pressing is this need in view of what the National Minimum Curriculum (1999)
envisions as part of the decentralisation process, that is a situation where teachers
design a syllabus according to students’ needs within a general framework agreed
upon, like the attainment targets (Camilleri Grima, ed. 2001). Indeed the attainment
targets of the literary experience are an important aid in such an endeavour. Your
familiarisation with and the application of a set of criteria for textbook or text
selection will be of great help. With these in mind, you can design a small syllabus of
the literary experience. You can present the work performed, as a group report with
different sections as specified below.

T i t l e P a ge


Summary





Index



The
Context

Work Plan

Attainment
Targets

Aims

Your
Choice of
Particular
Literary
Texts


Ten
Resources
Scheme of
Work










A title for your syllabus.
The attainment targets’ level and the organisation principle for this level.
Members’ names.
Date of presentation.
A short paragraph of not more than one hundred and fifty words that
synthesise what you will be proposing.
A list of the different parts of the report.
A short (hypothetical) description of the context that this syllabus will be
designed for: the school’s locality; the type of school (AS, JL, PF, CS); the
students’ age; the school’s catchment area; the number of lessons per week
(three / four / five) and how many of them can be devoted to the literary
experience; if it is going to be a same sex school or a co-ed school; students’
ability; students’ knowledge that you consider as already mastered; the
period of the year the syllabus is designed for.
The groups’ agenda-minutes, therefore how many times you met, where
did you meet, how long the sessions took, who was the secretary, and most
importantly of all, what decisions were taken after each session.
Explain your choice for this particular level of the attainment targets.
What advantages do you consider this level has when compared to other
levels?
In a table divided into two columns, from the attainment targets (first
column) derive a set of aims (second column) that later on will be used in
particular lessons and in conjunction with selected texts.
Which texts do you feel best suit the aims you developed?
Which book/s did you consider for students to buy?
A hypothetical letter to the publisher or distributor to verify if the book is in
print and that the required amount of books is available.
A justification in around seventy-five words for each text chosen (poem /
book / novel / story / play / selection / anthology).
A list of ten resources you consider necessary to complement the learning
process, plus where these can be found / obtained.
A scheme of work focusing on the literary experience to demonstrate how
you are going to sequence each lesson for a period of two months.
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9
Choosing a literary text(book)
Part of the pedagogical competence of teachers of literature is selection of literary
texts and/or literary textbooks for use in their classrooms. While there are
different situations where Maltese teachers have no voice in text selection (for
example Maltese state schools have to follow a prescribed syllabi and textbooks,
and Form 5 common Secondary Education Certificate exams) one cannot ignore
those contexts and opportunities where teachers have the opportunity to select
texts that appeal to their students, and hence, develop further their students’
literary competence. Among the latter context one can find private schools,
church schools, parent foundation schools, and specific dates in the scholastic
calendar.
The former situation can be compared to a doctor who has no choice and liberty to
prescribe the medicine that s/he feels best fits his/her patient, or with a barrister
who has his/her hands tied when it comes to selecting those arguments that
provide a better chance for his/her client’s acquittal. Every member of a profession
has a responsible degree of autonomy, a responsibility that emanates from
professional competence.
As part of a degree, every teacher of literature already has mastered certain
knowledge about literature. Apart from competency in content, every student
teacher needs to acquire and develop those skills necessary in selecting those texts
from the repertoire that best reach and augment the literary interests and
competence of his/her students. Every selection needs to relate to that specific
cohort’s whole year’s program for the teaching of Maltese literature. One ought to
acknowledge that whilst there should be an agreement on what the students should
learn, there can be flexibility in the methods employed to arrive at that end.
However, the selection of specific texts should never rest solely on what the
students’ interests are; although these should act as a starting point for further
deliberations.
A
B
Read the different criteria for textbook
Choose five literary texts (short stories,
selection found in Stedina għat-Tagħlim
novellas, poems, plays, or a selection)
fis-Sekondarja (Portelli and Camilleri
that you consider as ideal for one
Grima, 2002: 359-360).
classroom you have taught last year.
Select a book that you consider as an
Then, in no more than one hundred
ideal textbook when it comes to
words, explain your choice.
teaching literature in the secondary
school. Mark the list and then elaborate
your comments in a short report you are
to present to the schools’ textbook
board.
327
1 0 Why did you want to become a teacher?
The reasons why one wants to enter into a profession are never ending. These reasons may
range from the pragmatic to the idealistic. But awareness of these reasons may uncover
hidden reservoirs of energy that come in handy when one starts to lose sight of the initial
reasons or when the strong winds of uncertainty start to take hold of one’s beliefs.
One way of knowing why one wanted to become a teacher instead of another profession is to
write down these reasons and then review them from time to time.
You might reflect on why you wanted to become a teacher of Maltese and more specifically a
teacher of Maltese literature. Maybe it is not that incidental: you passed a literature exam
with flying colours or remember reading a particular book in class, or it is just because of the
inspiring way of teaching of a particular teacher you had in the past. On the other hand,
maybe you don’t have specific reasons: literature just happens to form part of Maltese
syllabus and exams and at the time you did not have a voice in this decision (other languages
have opted for a separate exam paper for language and literature). Or it is just the case that
you are following William Wordsworth words from ‘The Prelude’:
“…What we have loved,
Others will love, and we will teach them how.”
1. Why did you want to become a teacher? ___________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
2. Why did you want to become a teacher of Maltese? _________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
3. Why did you want to become a teacher of Maltese literature? _________________
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
328
1 1 The influence of a teacher
Most probably one of the main reasons one becomes a teacher is because of the
deep and long standing influence of a teacher. Everyone has a dedicated teacher
that s/he remembers more than others. Maybe it was just the general
characteristics that made us aware of the influence s/he can have on other people.
Maybe there was a teacher who had a particular way of teaching and unconsciously
transmitted to us the love to teaching. Maybe it was just a small nearly insignificant
experience that made us think about the impact this person had on other people. Or
in other cases it may be completely the opposite, knowing that the general
characteristics and particular events that were enacted by this person are the ones
we would never emulate, and we plan our journey on completely different lines.
Apart from your choice, reflect upon the influence of a particular literature teacher
in the light of his/her general characteristics and in the light of a particular incident
that you still remember.
General Characteristics
Critical Incident





329
Context
Narrate what happened
Why do you think the incident
evolved in that way?
What does this incident mean to
you?
Why is this critical incident still
important to you today?
1 2 Images of a teacher of literature
We all carry within our hearts an image of the ideal teacher we strive to become.
During this course you will familiarise yourself with different roles and responsibilities
of a teacher of literature. This image will remodel the existent image which although
very crude still impacts on the way you want to become.
One way of exploring the ideal image of a literature teacher is through a metaphor,
which is comparing what a teacher does to a host of other professions. Pick the one
you choose from the list below and further elaborate what are the characteristics
that are comparable and maybe those that are miles away.
Repeat this activity once the course ends and after your first teaching practice.
The matchmaker
The missionary
The tourist guide
The guardian
The general
The mechanic
The psychologist
The model
Others
330
1 3 Looking at yourself as a teacher of literature
After reflecting on a past teacher of literature that left an indelible mark on you, it is time to
reflect on yourself as a prospective teacher and specifically a teacher of Maltese literature.
The aim behind this task is to enable you to identify early on in your profession those aspects
and characteristics that you hold as:
 helping you in developing as a teacher of Maltese literature;
 hindering you from developing further; and finally,
 reservoirs of energy that will keep you going in difficult times.
A list of characteristics
Your literary training
1.
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
What are those characteristics you would
like to develop as a teacher of literature?
How would you describe your role as a
teacher of literature in a secondary school
classroom?
Do you feel any responsibility when
teaching Maltese literature?
Do you foresee any major hurdles in this
process of becoming a teacher of Maltese
literature?
How would you describe an ideal situation
where you teach literature to your highest
capability (for example, no examinations,
no tutors, attentive students….)?
If during a job interview someone asks you
to describe those characteristics that
would make you their ideal candidate,
what would they be?
2.
3.
4.
5.
Your interest in the literary
world
1.
2.
3.
4.
What aspects of Maltese literature (specific
authors, periods, genres) do you consider as
your forte?
What aspects of Maltese literature (specific
authors, periods, genres) do you consider as
your major weakness?
Is there any specific knowledge and/or any
particular reading competency that you
consider necessary to a teacher who would
like to teach in a secondary school?
Are you reading more than is expected from
you to broaden your repertoire of Maltese
literature from which later on you can
choose different texts?
Having recognised lacunae in your literary
training, what are you willing to do to
improve on that situation?
Your interest in pedagogy
1.
Do you take interest in cultural activities
related to literature? Did you ever attend a
literary evening? Are you a member of a
book club? Did you ever participate in a
group discussion about literature? Do you
have a subscription to a literary magazine?
When was the last time you went to the
theatre? If it has been some time now that
you attended a theatrical representation,
what holds you back? If you never
attended a theatrical representation, what
is stopping you from going next weekend?
How do you keep up to date with
contemporary Maltese literature?
What is holding you back in developing as
a teacher of literature whose lifestyle
reflects his/her own passion for literature?
2.
3.
4.
5.
331
How many hours per week do you assign to
studying material that will help you become
a more dedicated and competent Maltese
literature teacher?
What are you willing to do to become a
more competent teacher of Maltese
literature?
How would you measure your successes as
a teacher of Maltese literature?
Is there a person that you feel can help you
in your journey to become a teacher of
Maltese literature?
If you identified a particular person, or have
a particular person in mind, what type of
relationship do you have with him/her?
How can you improve on your relationship?
1 4 The anxiety of theory
Many student teachers feel comfortable so long as during their pedagogy lectures they discuss and
learn about different practical methods they can use when teaching literature, as if these
methods and techniques were magical formulae that make miracles in classrooms! A good teacher
of literature, and above all a true professional, should delve deeper than the stated and walk the
road less travelled. A good literature teacher should try to understand what makes one practice
better than another. Reading seminal texts on the teaching of literature by pedagogues and
literary theorist who wrote during the last few years, people like Jonathan Culler, Wolfgang Iser,
Stanley Fish, and above all the guru in the teaching of literature, Louise Rosenblatt, can shed
light on this difficult and at times lonely endeavour. These authors contributed with specific
ideas – literary competence, lacunae in the reading process, interpretive community, the
continuum between aesthetic and efferent reading – and moved forward the research on the
teaching of literature.
As a novice you should read and familiarise yourself with these concepts that your practice –
whether knowingly or unknowingly, whether you want it or not, whether you admit it or not – is
based upon. If you take pains to understand these new concepts, your reading of these texts, the
discussion that will follow and, furthermore, your own practice as a teacher of literature, will
make a lot more sense.
Where is the anxiety of theory of those that prefer to walk the road less travelled, of those that
feel anxiety only in front of superficial ideas and easy solution to complex problems?
When you are reading alone or as part of a group the assigned article/chapter, if you
want to improve the process of understanding then follow these steps:
 Look for the main idea. There is no need to understand all the words and paragraphs to
get a grasp of the main idea.
 Identify the keywords and find where they are explained or used most in the article.
 Differentiate between arguments and examples.
 Take note of the former and try to find similar examples in Maltese of the latter.
 Make use of a specialised dictionary or the internet when you want to clarify any ideas.
 In not more than twenty minutes, share with the whole group the main concept of the
article.
When you finish reading the article/chapter, discussing the article/chapter, listen to
the presentations… answer the following:
In what way do you find the ideas explored in your article relevant to the teaching
of literature at the secondary level in Malta?
332
Does literary theory liberate or stifle teaching
1 5 Maltese literature?
Nick Peim (1993) in Critical Theory and the English Teacher critically adopts a number of
post-structural literary theories to exemplify how these can bring about change in the
teaching of literature in secondary classrooms.
The above mentioned theories, when taken together, may intimidate the novice reader.
However, follow closely the instructions below. When you reach the very end you will
have gained greater insights and better understanding of some of them.
 Step one - Reading ‘differently’ a text
Write a brief critical comment on a literary text of your choice in the light of the aims and
insights of one or more of the following literary theories: semiotics (pp. 41-45);
phenomenology (pp. 45-47); psychoanalysis (pp. 47-54); deconstruction (pp. 54-61); feminist
theory (pp. 64-65).
 Step two - Design a lesson
Write a detailed lesson plan where you show how step after step you will guide your
secondary pupils to read a text ‘differently’ and in a hidden way follow the principles of one
particular theory. List all the questions you intend to answer during that lesson and that will
guide you in the discussion that you plan to lead. Try to devise a task sheet different from
usual ones.
 Step three - Reflect
The following questions can help you reflect on the experience in steps one and two:
 Why did you choose that particular theory?  What attracted most your
attention?  What did not convince you in the other theories?  How do you
feel when reading a text that you do not understand immediately?  How
difficult or easy was it to understand what was expected from the reader
working within the framework of that theory?  Did you use any reference
material to better understand the chosen theory?  What criteria did you follow
when selecting a text to experiment the new way of reading  What did you
discover using this new way of reading a text?  How easy or difficult was it to
design a lesson plan that you weaved along a particular reading theory? 
What would you predict would be the students’ reaction to this lesson?  Do
you feel you will ever put into practice this way of reading a text with your
students in a secondary school?
 Step four - Respond in essay form
Do you feel that literary theory liberates or stifles the teaching of literature in a
secondary school?
333
1 6 The (ir)relevance of literature
From time to time, literature comes under attack from those that hold that it is without any
utility with no relevance in the education of future citizens; an accusation that knows its origin in
Plato’s Republic. The defence of literature from those who perniciously criticise literature’s role
in society and in the holistic development of a person was the mission of many poets, literary
theorists, philosophers and pedagogues. The writing of those that defend literature’s privileged
position in a society is known as apologetic literature.
A recent attack on the value of literature was voiced by Morgan, a character in Aidan Chambers’
Breaktime. In a way Morgan’s words synthesise the major arguments against literature of all
times.
CHARGES AGAINST LITERATURE
(I mean fiction)
I charge that:
1. Literature as a way of telling stories is out-moded. Done. Finished.
Dead. Stories as entertainment are easier got from film and TV these
days.
2. Literature is, by definition, a lie. Literature is a fiction. Fiction is
opposite to fact. Fact is truth. I am concerned with truth.
3. Novels, plays, poetry make life appear neat and tidy. Life is not neat
and tidy. It is untidy, chaotic, always changing. Critics even complain
if a story is not well plotted or ‘logical’. (Life, logical!) They dismiss
characters for being inconsistent. (How consistent are you, Ditto? Or
me?) And they admire ‘the literary convention’, by which they mean
obeying rules, as in ludo or chess. SO:
4. Literature is a GAME, played for FUN, in which the reader pretends
that he is playing at life. But it is not life. It is a pretence. When you
read a story you are pretending a lie.
THEREFORE:
5. Literature is a sham, no longer useful, effluent, CRAP.
As I said.
Q.E.D.
Morgan
Write a letter to Morgan:
a.
To show your solidarity with his arguments.
OR
b.
Defend literature.
Whatever stance you take, you may refer to ideas you read about literature’s contribution and
maybe specific incidents in your upbringing as a student of literature and now as a teacher of
literature.
334
1 7 Towards a personal definition of literature
Teachers of literature, like other specialists who study literature as their area of
specialisation, need to define their alleged expertise by defining the stuff they work
with: literature.
But this task may be superfluous or at the same time daunting, when one considers
that after two thousand years no one definition satisfies all, and that literature is
much more similar to an ever evolving creature than to solid rock. Maybe it is just
one of those irresistible questions with no real answer?!
However, you might be tempted to take a go at defining literature yourself. Keep in
mind that the way you define literature will have great impact on what is selected
in class.
1. Write your definition of literature.
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
2. Write a definition of literature suitable for secondary school.
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
3. In what ways are definition in 1 and 2 similar OR different?
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________
335
APPENDIX B
The Two Rubrics Used in the Assessment
of the Portfolio and Study-Unit
336
THE FIRST EXPERIENCE OF TEACHING LITERATURE IN A
SECONDARY SCHOOL: THE PORTFOLIO EVALUATION RUBRIC
Candidate’s Name:
Date the Portfolio was Presented:
Portfolio Assessor:
Legend
1
Low quality work
Unacceptable work
No evidence
Uncreative work
2
3
Average quality work
Presentable work
Little evidence
Work with little originality
4
5
Above average work
Exceptional presentation
Unequivocal evidence
Creative work
The Criteria
A. The Portfolio Process
A.1 In the portfolio there is evidence that the common elements were
developed during a period of weeks, coupled with an extra effort
post-teaching practice carried out to finalise the individual
component and different reflections.
A.2 The candidate attended all the conferences organised (except if
s/he missed a session due to serious reasons such as illness).
A.3 The portfolio encapsulates enough evidence to demonstrate
growth during the last six weeks of teaching in a secondary school.
B. The Quality of Presentation of the Portfolio
B.1 The portfolio is presented in a neat and original manner.
B.2 The portfolio has all the sections clearly marked.
B.3 The portfolio contains a variety of artefacts, such as different
writing genres, pictures, illustrations, mind maps, photographs, tables
and the like.
B.4 The portfolio is written in standard Maltese and without any
orthographical mistakes (except for typos).
B.5 The portfolio contains a list of references used throughout the
whole portfolio written in a systematic way.








C. The Common Contents of the Portfolio
C.1 The Portfolio has all the common contents.
(Abstract / My portfolio in a nut shell; Content List; The Context
where I taught literature for the first time; A Positive Model;
Reflections and Evaluations).
C.2 The Portfolio includes the school’s context where the candidate
taught literature, the candidate demonstrates his/her observation
skills and a wide array of documents to substantiate his/her
observations.
337


C.3 The candidate clearly and convincingly explains why s/he chose
the particular model of positive practice:
a) why they are the best,
b) how they were used, and
c) what prompted him/her to select that particular model instead
of others.
C.4 The lesson evaluations have two main characteristics:
a) a situation, a dilemma or one critical incident from a series
that took place during the lesson; and
b) an attempt to contextualise and better understand this
situation, dilemma or critical incident with the theoretical
underpinnings of teaching literature.
D. The Individualised Content of the Portfolio
D.1 The reasons behind the themes’ choice (relationship with the
experience of teaching literature in a secondary school and/or
personal interest) are clearly explained.
D.2 All artefacts in the individualised section of the portfolio are
related to one theme.
D.3 There is clear evidence that the candidate tried to view and
explore the theme from different perspectives.
D.4 The individualised section of the portfolio is original, even if some
ideas are extrapolated from the list presented in the Guidebook.
E. The Reflections
E.1 The reflective pieces gel and hold together the portfolio.
E.2 The candidate explains what s/he has learnt from the portfolio
experience.
E.3 The candidate chose to include a reflection on the portfolio’s
utility and contribution in her professional development, at least of
one or more of the following:
a) a selection of the Examiner’s comments in the teaching
practice reports;
b) a selection from the correspondence with the lecturer related
to the development of the portfolio;
c) the timetable’s hidden meaning; and /or
d) her personal meaning of the teaching practice file once this
experience has come to an end.
E.4 The candidate demonstrated that s/he has reaching the level of
critical reflection expected at this level (vide Guidebook for a
description and examples of the levels of reflection expected).
Comment/s
Portfolio’s Assessor’s Name:
The Candidate’s Final Mark:
Date:
338










Rubric for the Evaluation of the Different Components of:
The Literary Experience in the Secondary School
Student’s Name:
Your Comment of 15 Different Articles from the Reading Pack
Criteria
Note/Comment/Evidence
A.1 In your comments you demonstrate
 Read the Guidebook for a description of
and examples of reflective writing.
that you are being critical.
 Be on the lookout to avoid as much as
possible a descriptive writing or a
summary of an article.
A.2 In your comment you infuse
 You would reach this criterion if you
narrate and reflect on an incident of
references to particular critical incidents
when you were still young, that relates
or situations you experienced when you
to what you read.
were still a student in secondary or post
secondary school, including references to
university.
A.3 You filled all the boxes in the
 Simply fill in all the boxes in the form.
particular form.
Your Answer to the Different Reflective Tasks
Criteria
Note/Comment/Evidence
B.1 Your answer relates to the question
 In most Reflective Tasks, you were
provided with a number of questions
and uses the appropriate writing style
to aid reflection. Edit your answer so
envisaged in the Reflective Task.
as not to resemble an interview or
answers to a comprehension test.
 Use subheadings to help the reader
make better sense of your thoughts.
 Make sure that your answer emulates
the genre’s particular characteristics.
B.2 Your answer reflects your opinion on  Writing with a strong sense of voice.
the matter.
 There is nothing wrong in making a
subjective argument on an issue
related to the reflective tasks.
B.3 In your answer you make a conscious  Read the Guidebook for a description of
and exemplars of reflective writing.
effort to reflect on the issues highlighted
in the reflective task’s question.
B.4 You make specific references to
 You could say you have reached this
criteria if you select a memory you’re
particular personal experiences.
your childhood, narrate it in not so
many words, and you use it as a
springboard for your own reflection.
B.5 When needed, your answer adopts a
 Not all reflective tasks need references
(for examples Your Reading history is
series of references.
one with little if no references).
 However, there are some Reflective
Tasks that require you to explain and
document from where you got your
ideas.
 Use a reference system consistently at
the end of your Reflective Tasks.
339
15%
+
12345
12345
12345
25%
+
12345
12345
12345
12345
12345
Your Reflective Journal
Criteria
Note/Comment/Evidence
C.1 Reflective writing, loyal to the
student-teacher’s opinion rather than
being complacent.
C.2 The reflective journal was duly filled
after each session throughout the whole
academic year.
C.3 The reflective entry focused on one
specific issue or theme that arose during
the lecture.
C.4 In your writing there is some
evidence that you have moved or tied to
move beyond the lecture notes.
C.5 In your journal entry you include
both questions that were raised during
the lecture and possible or tentative
answers to those questions.
The Literature Syllabus (Group Work)
Criteria
D.1 The syllabus follows rigorously the
different sections and requirements as
indicated in the information sheet
related to this section.
D.2 The lesson’s aims, the selected texts
and the relative scheme of work,
demonstrate a developed content
knowledge and pedagogical content
knowledge.
 Read the Guidebook for a description of
and examples of reflective writing.
 A piece of writing with a great sense of
voice; you resonate in every sentence.
 Check that you have the date of each
individual piece of journal entry
 Teaching practice was the only period
you could have opted out from writing
your journal.
 Every lecture had a theme, and
therefore your writing is inspired by or
relates to it.
 Your writing should be focused rather
than a general comment.
 Avoid having a summary or
paraphrase of your lecture notes!
 Speculation or making daring
questions (for example ‘who knows
if…?’ ‘if…?’ ‘could it be that…?’) are
ingredients of a serious reflective
process.
Note/Comment/Evidence
 Every section should begin on a fresh
page with the title clearly written on
top specifying the contents.
 Read through the different writings so
as to select those that are most
representative.
 Think of new and up-to-date methods
that emphasise individual and
communitarian response.
Student’s Mark
The Portfolio
15%
x3
÷5
12345
12345
12345
12345
12345
10%
÷2
12345
12345
40%
First Reader’s Mark
Lecturer’s Mark
÷2
THE FINAL MARK / GRADE
COMMENT
REFLECTIVE
TASKS
JOURNAL
SYLLABUS
PORTFOLIO
TOTAL
A+ = 100-95 | A = 94-80 | B+ = 79-75 | B = 74-70 | C+ = 69-65 | C = 64-55 | D+ = 54-50 | D = 49-45 | F= 44-0
340
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